


Spirits with Spirits

by CocksAndClocks



Category: RWBY
Genre: Age Difference, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Anal Sex, Based On Buzzfeed Unsolved, Breaking and Entering, Comedy, Dirty Talk, Drunken Flirting, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Gay Sex, Implied Sexual Content, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Oral Sex, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Qrow is a bit of a slut and Ozpin is extremely touch-starved, Sexual Humor, Sexual Tension, all smut is in chapter 5 and not plot relevant, bonk...go to horny jail, they're both adults but there is a bit of a gap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:20:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24041233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CocksAndClocks/pseuds/CocksAndClocks
Summary: A reclusive writer. A pair of wannabe ghost hunters. A case of mistaken hauntings. When the YouTube ghost hunter stars Qrow Branwen and Taiyang Xiao Long enter the allegedly haunted Pine manor, they expect spooky happenings. The last thing they expect is a the owner of the house to be alive and well – and for something romantic to spark.OzQrow Week Day 6: Supernatural
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Ozpin
Comments: 72
Kudos: 104





	1. The Phantom of Pine Manor

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Day 6 of OzQrow Week!
> 
> We watched...a _lot_ of Buzzfeed Unsolved for this one.

_“Morrigan: skeptic, cynic, sharp blade with a sharper tongue, a physique the envy of gods…_

_Odin: all powerful recluse, an illusion to all, known to none…”_

_A bit obvious, don’t you think?_

Ozpin gave a long sigh and scraped his hands across his face. 

It was late – or early, by most people’s sense of time. Enough years as an insomniac, night owl – whatever word described him best – had turned nights into his days, suffering at the hands of the glow of his computer screen and the words that could not be willed into existence. 

He sighed again and reached for his mug, wishing to ignore the voice in his head but unable to ignore the truth of his words. 

_Obvious._

“I know.”

It was garbage of the worst kind. Not even fanfiction, but a cheaper version of that, repurposed characters in a thinly-veiled self-insert.

Like a lovesick teenager.

_“Their love – doomed by distance – “_

“Don’t read further. It will only depress me.” Ozpin put his mug down and his face followed, his forehead striking the desk ungently. He cursed the block fell that into his head and crushed his mind, his ideas, leaving the dregs of bad daydreams, unpolished plotlines, recycled characters. 

“I’m a hack,” he said aloud to the accusatory words on the monitor and in his head.

_Come now, Ozpin. You are a world-famous author. A simple case of writer’s block is expected from time to time._

“Three _months.”_

_Which is shorter than most._

“I’m not clear of the fog yet,” Ozpin said dryly.

_Then you must find new inspiration._

“I know! I simply…”

_Can focus on naught but the poetic overtures you wish to send your screen saver._

He ignored the jab at his taste in screen saver models, hearing the compliment first.

“…are they truly poetic?”

_It’s borderline slash fanfiction._

“Oh my god. Is that all to which I have been reduced?” he groaned melodramatically. “That’s it! I’ve written all I can. I’m spent. There is nothing left except – except – ” He motioned at the screen, unwilling to say it aloud.

Writing thinly veiled fanfiction about a crush.

_Relax. It’s natural. All dream of embracing their affections._

Ozpin glared at the screen through his fingers, feeling the heat of his blush.

“But _not_ all create an outline for a full-length novel that demands the necessity to politely diminish the twenty smut scenes – which comprise the majority of the manuscript.”

_So it’s an erotic novel?_

“It was intended as horror!”

_Well, it very well may be if you continue with this drabble._

Ozpin huffed loudly, offended by the statement despite sharing the opinion.

_Take a break._

“I’m calling it tonight altogether,” Ozpin announced, pushing his chair back. “I’m pouring a very large glass of wine and turning on the new episode of ‘Spirits with Spirits’ and I’m not listening to anything you have to say anymore tonight.”

The voice fell silent, mercifully, as Ozpin went downstairs and returned with his wine, happily closing his work to open YouTube and think about things far more interesting than any of the clichéd characters that plagued him. 

He heaved a sigh of relief at the theme song, taking a too-long sip of wine.

“Hello ghouls and gals, humble new viewers, and loyal Spiritiers! Welcome to this month’s episode of ‘Spirits with Spirits!’” Taiyang Xiao Long’s face came into view, all smiles and blond hair and biceps. His partner waved from behind him, an aluminum can in hand.

“Eeeeey!” Qrow Branwen was the opposite of Taiyang in most regards, slimmer, darker, and considerably less sober. He chugged the can, tossing it aside and belching loudly.

“Was that beer? I thought you brought leftover gin from the party last night.”

“Yep.”

“So where did you get the beer?”

“I found it in the trunk.”

“You chugged _warm beer?”_ Taiyang asked incredulously.

Qrow shrugged. “Yeah. Pass me the gin.”

Taiyang obliged, and wincing as he watched Qrow take a pull from the bottle. 

“Nasty.”

“They don’t call me ‘Show Qrow’ for nothin’.”

“No one calls you that.”

“Someone doesn’t read the comments.”

“I respond to _all_ of them.”

“Except the phone numbers left by loyal fans.” Qrow clicked his tongue and offered finger-guns and a wink at the camera.

“You’re officially a hoe.”

“Qrow Hoe.”

“Dude, that’s lame.”

“And yet, I get the phone numbers.”

“I question our viewers’ sobriety.”

_I cannot fathom why you consume this drivel._

Ozpin repressed a groan, the voice of reason breaking into his delicious, mindless distraction. He reached for his wine, putting on his lecture-tone. _“Because_ it’s fun and nonsensical. I’m not a child. I don’t need to justify my entertainment selections.”

_Nor your taste in men. The embodiment of your Morrigan character, is he not?_

Ozpin watched Qrow’s face drift across the camera and he frowned until the bloom of his blush died entirely. “Hush. You’re interrupting.”

“Oh no!” Qrow said onscreen, motioning toward his damp shirt with an overdramatic sweep of his arm. “I spilled ketchup all over my shirt! Guess I’ll just have to take it off – ”

“Can you at least sound like you didn’t have that in your pocket just so you could do this?” Taiyang asked flatly.

“No. ‘Cause I did.” The shirt came off with a theatrical lasso motion, Ozpin’s wine stopping halfway to his lips.

“Big whoop. You find a reason to do it every episode.”

“I can’t disappoint the viewers.”

“Ten bucks if we made a shirtless Qrow montage, we would find material in every episode.”

“Twenty bucks says it’ll be our highest viewed video.”

“He has a point,” Ozpin murmured into his wine.

_You would need a cold shower._

“Don’t be crass,” Ozpin said, but he felt the blush burn on his cheeks. “It isn’t like that at all.”

 _You_ don’t _have a hopeless crush on this boy half your age?_

“He can legally drink,” Ozpin protested, wincing at the desperation of that counterargument. “It hardly matters anyway. Being a recluse and talking to the judgmental voice in my head doesn’t leave me time to meet internet celebrities.” He swirled his wine, watching Qrow’s face on his monitor. “Besides. It’s a harmless crush.”

_You should get out more._

“I know,” Ozpin sighed.

_Didn’t they get cited for suspicious behavior?_

“Once,” Ozpin said.

_And arrested?_

“Once!” Ozpin said, more loudly.

_And this is the type of man who catches your eye._

Ozpin aggressively sipped his wine.

_I worry about your taste –_

“I _know,”_ Ozpin said. “Hush!” He dismissed the voice with a wave of his hand, rewinding the video enough to rewatch what he had missed. He may have been a recluse by choice, but that didn’t mean that the decision came without consequence, and so he turned up the volume, chuckling at Qrow’s bad jokes, Taiyang’s sarcasm, all nostalgia and vicariousness for a time in Ozpin’s youth where he had missed any chance of sharing a similar life.

*

“Alright Spiritiers! It’s time fooooor – ”

“Breaking and entering because we couldn’t find the groundkeeper to let us in.” Qrow cut in, unscrewing the cap to his flask.

Taiyang Xiao Long sighed, dropping his camera. Qrow stood in the illumination of Tai’s truck light, grinning like an idiot. Behind him, the Pine estate loomed, the large Victorian house nothing more than a dark shadow against the palest hint of twilight, Tai shuddering at the thought of going in. Qrow’s usual antics, of course, didn’t make him feel any better. And doing several takes for basic shots would only make this last longer.

“Dude. We can’t say that.”

“But we are.”

“I thought you said you got permission!” Tai hissed.

“I said I could get us in,” Qrow countered, pointing at Tai with his flask.

“Jesus. You’re the worst.”

“Fine, I’ll do the breaking and entering and you can pin it on me if we’re caught.”

“There will be no breaking!”

“Suit yourself.” Qrow shrugged, lifting his flask and chugging half the contents.

Tai scrambled to get the camera up and running again. “Wait! Damnit, you’re supposed to do that on camera.”

“Fine. I’ll do it again,” Qrow grinned, refilling his flask from their trunk, the heavy scent of whiskey filling the air. He pocketed the flask and turned on his own camera, peering through it to test the lighting.

“Just don’t die, okay? I bet this place has enough ghosts without yours too.”

Qrow laughed, unconcerned. “Yes, dear,” he teased.

Tai was sure the camera picked up every second of his exasperated sigh. “Ready now?”

“Shoot,” Qrow said, lifting his flask in a toast, pointing his camera at Tai to record the roll of his eyes.

Tai shook the annoyance off, mentally slapping enthusiasm into his expression as Qrow’s camera steadied back on him.

“Alright, Spiritiers! On this week’s episode, we will be investigating the old abandoned Pine Mansion on Beacon Hill! Rumors tell of a mysterious man appearing as a white ghostly figure that walks the house at night – sometimes a full body apparition, sometimes just a floating head. Neighbors report lights turning themselves on and off throughout the night with no one in the rooms.”

“Asshole runnin’ up the light bill,” Qrow said, as they began a slow walk up the gravel driveway, their footsteps echoing amongst the pine trees.

“That too. Guess the ghost isn’t too conscientious, but if he doesn’t have to pay the bill, it makes sense.”

“So who pays the bill?”

“What a fantastic question, Qrow! For starters, no one is ever seen entering or leaving the house. Ever. And the same name has been on the deed for over _one hundred_ years!”

“Someone at the county’s getting fired.”

“It gets even cooler! The house was originally built by the Pine family in the early eighteenth century by a guy named Ozma Pine. He was pretty well-to-do for his time so he had this custom house built on a secluded hill – ”

“We’re on the edge of town.”

“Yeah, well, there _was_ no town then, shush.”

Qrow shrugged.

“Anyway – secluded hill! Spooky custom mansion. It didn’t get transferred until twenty years ago when – get this – the guy transferred it to himself!”

“Are you sure it wasn’t just his kid or something?”

“I thought of that. But then I found the death certificate for his son, Oscar Pine, who died eight years before the transfer.”

“Bust.”

“Exactly! So the ghost can either be the old man Ozma Pine, or his son Oscar,” Tai said eagerly. “We could even have a _family_ haunting!”

“Or a hot demonic incubus sent to lure us – ”

“And this is why we have a mature rating, ladies and gentleman,” Tai said, his sigh a white cloud of mist in the darkness.

“I vote hot sex demon. Just sayin’.”

“Okay, but if demons exist,” Tai reasoned, “what if it’s got…demon cooties or something?”

“Tai, it would literally fuck you to death. You would die in ecstasy. I don’t think a little demon disease would be a problem at that point.”

“Fair. Can it be a succubus though?”

“You’re the one who said it was some dude.”

“Damn it…” Tai whispered under his breath. He panned the camera to himself to shift gears. “And now for the investigation!”

“Which is my cue.” Qrow raised his flask to the camera, holding up his own.

“Chug, chug, chug!”

Qrow laughed, spraying liquor over the driveway.

“Easy, man. The drunk guy is always the first to die in horror movies.”

“Yeah, I’m not really worried with my track record,” Qrow said dryly. “Come on, we’ll go through the back.”

They crunched along the gravel, their shoes silenced when they crossed the lawn. The windows were dark, curtain pulled to the sides, the unlit rooms within impossible to see. Tai shuddered again. Every time he showed up to a new haunted gig, he wondered why the hell he was doing this in the first place. Sure, maybe one day he’d be the first guy to catch a real ghost on camera and make history. Get famous.

Or it would be another night wrangling his drunk best friend and getting mocked for jumping at shadows.

“It pays the bills,” he whispered to himself.

“What?” Qrow turned his head.

“Just reminding myself why I do this,” Tai said. “How are we getting in?”

“I’ll figure something out,” Qrow said, all tipsy confidence. They rounded to the back of the house and Qrow took another pull of his flask, considering the little porch there, a windowed door leading into the darkness of the house.

“Think you can pick it?” Tai asked anxiously. Or maybe Qrow wouldn’t be able to do it and they could just go home –

Qrow turned the knob, the door swinging open with a faint screech.

_Fuck._

“Got it,” Qrow said, grinning.

“Asshole. Don’t take credit for that.”

“Why, did your old man ghost do it?”

“Shut up.” Tai swallowed the fear rising up his throat. “Let’s get this over with.” He followed Qrow past the threshold, holding his breath as he took the first step inside, trailing his flashlight over the room.

They were in the kitchen. It was silent inside, the chirp of crickets hushed as Tai closed the door carefully behind them. His eyes followed his flashlight, illuminating small patches of sage green cabinets, old fashioned tea cups and saucers behind textured glass. He lifted his wrist and the light fell on a hanging pot rack, bronze pans reflecting sharply. 

“Looks old,” Tai whispered.

 _Creepy._ It looked creepy, a kitchen from another time. He lowered the flashlight and studied the analog food scale on the dark granite counter. “It’s pretty clean, actually.”

“The place probably has a caretaker,” Qrow mused. “The grass was cut too.”

“The one you couldn’t get ahold of?”

“Hey, I tried. No one would give me a contact.”

“Guess it _is_ a historical house,” Tai said grudgingly, making sure the camera followed the sweep of the flashlight. “Makes sense someone would try to keep it up.”

Qrow whistled as his flashlight bobbed around the kitchen. “Sweet upgrades.” He motioned with his light at the dishwasher, a stainless steel model, soft green digital lights on the front.

“The old man likely did it before he croaked,” Tai said. “I couldn’t find anything about anyone surviving Ozma Pine.”

“Huh. That means the place has electricity.”

“For the caretaker, you think?” Tai asked. “Although I doubt he’d be here at night. That’s when neighbors say they can see lights.”

“Spo-o-oky,” Qrow drawled.

Tai rolled his eyes. “Whiskey hitting yet?”

 _“Oh_ yeah,” Qrow said, grinning at the camera. “You think there’s anything in the fridge? I’d kill for a sandwich.”

“If a ghost kills us over you stealing a sandwich, I’ll haunt you.”

“Can’t haunt me if I’m already dead,” Qrow countered. “Does it smell like coffee in here?”

“Yeah.” Tai turned, slowly moving his flashlight around until he found the appliance. “There. I…think it’s on.”

“It’s a haunted coffee pot!” Qrow exclaimed cheerfully.

“Come on, don’t joke,” Tai said, feeling the anxiety creep back up. “It’s…coffee pots can’t be haunted.”

“Says who? The people who wrote the rules to the Ouija board?” Qrow peered at the machine. “Can we take it back to the apartment? It’s so polite.”

“Why would you want something _haunted_ in our dorm?! No way!”

“Dude, think about it. It’d make coffee for us on its own.”

“It’s _HAUNTED._ ”

 _“Coffee pots can’t be haunted,”_ Qrow mimicked. “What’s it gonna do? Brew hot water when the coffee runs out? Oh no, anything but that!”

“Shut up!” Tai elbowed him, hesitating in front of what was _obviously_ a cursed object. 

“Should we shut it off?”

“Why?” Qrow asked, already poking about in cupboards.

“It’s a fire hazard, isn’t it?”

“So? If you were a ghost that just made coffee, wouldn’t the last thing you want is some asshole turning it off before you were done? Ruin your ghost brew. I’d curse you for sure.”

Tai scoffed. “The _coffee_ isn’t ghostly.” He watched Qrow continue to rummage about the kitchen, pulling a mug from an open cupboard. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Grabbing some ghost brew.”

“You can’t do that!”

“Why not? Maybe the ghost was trying to be hospitable. It’d be rude not to.” Qrow poured a cup, toasting toward Tai, who groaned aloud.

“Oh my god, don’t _drink it…_ ”

“It’s pretty good.”

“I’m turning it off,” Tai announced, reaching toward the machine.

“Don’t turn it off.”

Qrow had thrown his voice, a raspy whisper. Tai jumped, hissing in alarm. 

“Not funny,” he snapped.

Qrow shot him a glance, eyebrows raised. “Wasn’t me, dude.”

“Qrow. Knock it off.”

“Dude, I swear it wasn’t me. Check the feed if you don’t believe me.”

Tai stared. _He has to be messing with me._ And still he pulled the camera up, rewinding to a few moments before.

On camera, the whisper was clear, the words distinct. And in the background, in the light of Tai’s flashlight, at the exact same moment, Qrow was drinking from his flask.

*

Ozpin woke that evening wishing for a distraction.

His house was quiet - silent, as it always was - but tonight Ozpin wasn’t satisfied by it. He had work to do, a meeting with his editor looming in days to come -

And a spectacular case of writer’s block. 

He needed a change of pace, to distract and maybe even inspire him.

He squinted at his phone in the darkness, opening the app that controlled most of his appliances, and tapped the button for the coffee machine to begin.

Coffee, some time to wake properly, and perhaps an early round with the punching bag in his home gym to get the blood moving along. He yawned and stretched tired limbs before slipping from bed, draping his silk robe over his shoulders. 

_Maybe I should just go see a movie._

He glanced at the clock; it was after nine, still early enough to catch the last showing of that Agatha Christie film he had been meaning to see. A classic mystery might prove useful to his own imagination.

A sound echoed up from downstairs and he paused in tying his robe, straining his ears. Was that a knock on the door?

No one ever knocked on the door.

Of course, Glynda had a key and his security codes for emergencies, such as illness or injury or missing a deadline, but at the moment (as far as she knew), his work was on schedule.

He reached for his slippers and padded gently from the bedroom to his study, the door hidden behind an old-fashioned swinging bookcase. He closed it silently behind him, feeling it latch, and turned on his phone’s flashlight, skimming it over the room.

It was almost empty, his writing desk waiting patiently for his return, the security monitors on the opposite side of the room. He flipped them on, turning off his flashlight in favor of the dim light of the screens. He scanned each room quickly, no sign of anything unusual -

They were in the kitchen. Two would-be burglars, young men no more than twenty-five, motioning at his coffee machine and holding -

Cameras.

Ozpin squinted, zooming in with the kitchen camera enough to ascertain that the boys did indeed hold video cameras, filming as they turned about in the kitchen, peering curiously at the coffee maker as it bubbled with a fresh brew.

_How have they gotten in?_

The back door, clearly, but -

Ozpin checked his phone anew, opening his security app.

_House alarm: disabled_

Ozpin sighed. The one day he was too sleepy to remember to turn the bloody thing on.

He closed the app and prepared to call the police, his thumb hovering over the call button as he watched one of the young men pour himself a cup of coffee.

_Well. That’s just cruel._

Ozpin leaned forward, putting down the phone to zoom in on the young man’s face, suddenly familiar. 

It couldn’t be.

He turned the volume on low, their voices coming through now.

“Should we turn it off?”

“Why?”

“It’s a fire hazard, isn’t it?”

“So? If you were a ghost who had just made coffee -“

Ozpin sat back in disbelief.

He knew exactly who these men were – from the silly online show about two college wannabe ghost hunters, something ridiculous Ozpin had discovered during a merciless bout of writer’s block _and_ insomnia. He had been searching for horror content relevant to his book; instead, he stumbled upon a show that made him laugh until he was in tears.

Not to mention the rueful crush he developed on the sarcastic, non-believing host.

But why would they be _here?_ In his house?

He listened to them chat, Taiyang Xiao Long clearly frightened.

…did they believe his house was haunted?

He laughed aloud and had to stifle the sound. Of course the show wasn’t terribly serious, but they must have been hard up to consider Ozpin’s house a site to investigate. Especially by breaking in.

He watched Qrow Branwen drink his coffee, amused at how Taiyang Xiao Long flailed in horror. He couldn’t fathom the misinformation that brought them here, but in a house equipped with an intercom system – 

Ozpin snickered again, listening to the boys in his kitchen bicker.

This was _too_ good.

Taiyang was still arguing to turn off the machine, Qrow was still drinking from it, and Ozpin felt suddenly inspired.

He leaned into the microphone, pushing the com button.

“Don’t turn it off,” he whispered.

The kitchen descended into chaos and he flipped the button off to laugh, pleased beyond words for this twist of events.

Murder movies? Horror books? No, Ozpin had needed a proper distraction, and this – the opportunity to become a living ghost – was entirely too perfect to waste.


	2. The Haunting of Qrow Branwen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Qrow and Tai get more than they bargained for when it seems like the house they broke into might actually be haunted. Ozpin's pranks escalate - but what happens if one of the boys discovers he's not a ghost?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back, and back on schedule to update weekly until completion. Thanks for your patience!
> 
> \- Clocks

Taiyang stood in the dark kitchen of an old Victorian house, listening to the echo of a voice that belonged to no one, counting every damn decision made with Qrow Branwen that led him to this – clearly the night he was going to be murdered by a ghost.

“That’s weird,” Qrow said, cocking his head at the camera, watching the playback of the disembodied voice.

“Weird?” Tai repeated, incredulous. _“Weird?_ The ghost is going to murder you for stealing his coffee, and you’re going to hell.” His voice rose higher with the panic rising in his veins, angry that Qrow, as usual, took none of this seriously.

As if to drive the point home, Qrow shrugged, pouring whiskey into the stolen coffee. “Not if I get stuck haunting this place with him. Then it’s fancy high tea and coffee shop dates, right, ghost buddy?”

“Not funny,” Tai huffed.

“I didn’t know you could throw your voice like that,” Qrow said. “Have you been taking lessons?”

“It wasn’t me, dumbass!” Tai said, exasperated. “You saw the footage! There’s no way I could throw my voice like that while holding the camera. That is verifiable proof this place is haunted as hell!”

Qrow made a face. “Yeah? Why don’t you ask the ghost something else then?”

“Jesus, I’m not going to tempt it to curse us – ”

“Ohhh, mighty spirit!” Qrow said, as Tai pulled his camera back up, the red recording button lighting.

_I may want to kill him, but this is the gig. And if we can prove ghosts exist -_

“Tell me, have you cursed us?” Qrow bellowed. “What is Taiyang’s curse?”

Tai held his breath as Qrow’s voice faded. Qrow rolled his eyes and lifted the mug to his lips, smug.

_“Socks with sandals.”_

The voice was little more than a rasp, Tai feeling his blood run cold.

_Proof! That’s it, undeniable proof -_

Qrow wheezed out a laugh, doubling over, gripping his sides and choking on his coffee, eventually having to lean on the counter to catch his breath.

“You’re an asshole,” Tai said, through grit teeth, fear and anger and panic all surging through him at once, the camera shaking in his hands.

“Guess we won’t need the spirit box,” Qrow wheezed.

“How can you _not_ be freaking out right now?” Tai hissed at him, eyes darting toward the dark corners of the kitchen.

“Because I don’t wear socks with sandals!”

“Look! It’s summer, but you never know when the room might get cold and – “

Another whisper rasped out over them, somehow loud despite the lowered tone.

_“Fix your shirt, young man – “_

Qrow hissed a laugh, collapsing against the counter. “’Young man!’” he said, wiping tears from his eyes. “This is golden! Getting fashion advice from a 100-year-old ghost!”

Tai, heart pounding, managed to shoot him a dirty look, aiming at camera at the corners of the kitchen, where the whispers seem to come from simultaneously.

The kitchen went silent save for Qrow’s snickering, Taiyang waiting, muscles tense.

“Oh man, we need to get that guy back,” Qrow said, still shaking with laughter. “Heeeeere ghosty, ghosty, ghosty.” Qrow clicked his tongue as if summoning a dog.

“Oh great. This is how we die,” Tai said, turning the camera to his face. “Qrow patronizing a ghost.”

“What? He hasn’t shown up yet. I think it came from this direction and I wanna see ‘im.” Qrow stumbled into next room, unconcerned with breaking and entering into a haunted house.

Tai shakily followed him, convincing himself that he had to get a shot if Qrow _did_ die by the hands of a pissed off ghost. “It’s freezing in here. There must be an en-n-ntity nearby.” he said, teeth chattering, resisting the urge to rub hands over chilled arms for the sake of the camera.

“Huh. I don’t feel it.”

“Because you’re drunk!”

“Not my fault you’re sober.”

“S-someone has to drive us back to the dorms.”

“Taxi.”

“Oh w-with what money?”

“The money I’d make selling ghost brew if you’d let me take the magical coffee pot.”

Tai shot him another glare, short-lived as the lights in the room suddenly came to life.

“Shit!” Tai hissed, backing toward the kitchen again.

“Thank you!” Qrow called.

Tai hit him.

“What? He’s being hospitable.”

“Maybe they’re motion-sense lights,” Tai said slowly.

“Dunno,” Qrow said. “I was halfway into the room before they came on.”

“Maybe they’re _shitty_ motion-sense lights,” Tai said, his voice rising with panic.

“Thought you’d be screaming ghost at this for sure,” Qrow drawled, sauntering around the room.

“I’m just trying not to freak out, man. Come on, let’s just see if we can find something interesting about this place.”

Qrow shrugged, arms rising to hug himself, absently rubbing skin to warm himself. Tai checked his digital thermometer: 63°F.

_Why would an empty house need to be this cold?_

“Hold up.” Qrow’s voice cut through the icy tension of the room.

Tai whirled around, flashlight and camera spinning. “W-w-what? Did you find something?”

“Oh my god.”

“What? What happened?” Tai hurried over, not wanting to be alone. “Did you see a shadow? Or a form?” He peered the camera over Qrow’s shoulder, eyes darting over –

A bookcase?

“These are all Ozpin first editions,” Qrow said, his voice awed.

_“What?”_

“They’re all _first editions._ Do you know how much these are worth?”

Tai stared, Qrow’s wide, amazed eyes looking up at the camera.

_Books? He’s excited about books?_

“No,” he said flatly.

“Me either!” Qrow exclaimed eagerly, fingers tracing the bindings in reverence.

“Then why did you ask? Wait, aren’t these the ones you just put on your Christmas list? I thought you had them all already?”

“I do, but they re-released them in special shiny hardback editions.”

“What’s wrong with the ones you have? They’re worn and rough around the edges, just like you.” Tai laughed at his own joke, snickering as he panned the camera over the bookcase for anything of actual interest.

“Tai. You don’t _read_ the shiny ones. You look at them.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

“Shshshshsh,” Qrow quieted Tai, rubbing his arms for warmth. “You know what I mean. Gotta keep the spine all nice and un-creased.

“You’re the one that always bitches when books are brand new at used bookstores. ‘Books are meant to be read,’ as you say.”

“They are! But not the fancy ones! Jesus Tai, it’s like you don’t read at all. How do you pass your classes?”

“SparkNotes, duh.”

Qrow ignored Tai now, his attention back on the bookshelves. “Huh, and these look like some original manuscripts…”

_“Behind you.”_

Tai let out a high-pitched _eep_ and flipped around, Qrow turning off kilter and falling into Tai. Tai, thankful for the connection, propped Qrow up.

_“Careful of the camera.”_

“Holy shit,” Qrow said, neck craning to figure out where the whispers came from.

Tai groaned, shoving Qrow off him. “Oh, this is juuuuuust great! A sentient haunted house writing haunted horror books. I’m so glad you’re amused, Qrow, because we’re probably next.”

“All we did is take some coffee and look at his books.” Qrow raised his voice, turning about the room slowly. “Do you think we could get unlimited ghost donuts with that?”

“Oh. My. God,” Tai hissed. His chest was beginning to ache with how hard his heart beat – and how much he wanted to punch Qrow in the face. “Can’t you at least say _please_ before you piss him off with your entitlement when you trespass onto his private property?”

“Right now?”

“Qrow!”

“What? Right, right, spooky ghost time. If the legend is right, there should be a creepy ass portrait around here somewhere.”

“I didn’t find one when I researched – ”

“It’s in like, every haunted house horror movie, Tai.”

“What?” Tai said, hitting Qrow on the arm. “This is _real_ life, in case you haven’t noticed. And you are actively antagonizing an unidentifiable force here to – “

“Provide you with better fashion sense?”

Tai let out a noise of frustration and turned away, scanning the room with his camera. “You know what? Eat him. Do whatever you want, Mr. Ghost, Sir. Just leave me alive to tell the story.”

Qrow had already wandered to the bottom of the stairs, a spot light at the top of the stairs highlighting a portrait of an old man.

Across the room, Tai softly chanted to his camera, “Ghosts can’t hurt me, ghosts can’t hurt me…”

“Nailed it.”

Tai looked up, the camera following his gaze, to where Qrow stood at the base of the staircase, pointing up to the portrait. The man in the painting was old, silver hair and dark eyes, lips twisted in a menacing smile.

Tai shivered as he studied it. “I hate you.”

“Zoom in on that beauty! Creepy portrait of a dead guy at the top of questionably steep stairs, check. You were right, Tai, this place is fantastic.”

“God damn it,” Tai muttered. “At least it’s warmer here. He probably moved upstairs…” he said, focusing his camera on the portrait rather than risking looking at it directly and giving it more voodoo power. “This has _got_ to be the guy. Look at that mustache. That guy that ties up your girlfriend on the train tracks would be jealous.”

“Snidely Whiplash?”

“…how do you know that?” Tai felt his fear ease up, distracted by Qrow’s bizarre knowledge.

“Everyone has role models growing up.”

“And yours was the guy that ties girls to train tracks?”

“He knew what he was about.”

Tai snorted. “That…explains so much.”

“Speaking of ‘splainin’, this ghost has some to do.”

“Okay, Ricky Ricardo. Back to the living room. We had better luck there.”

Qrow followed Tai back into the living room, roving his camera over the velvet furniture, the heavy curtains drawn over black windows. In the light it was almost pleasant; the sofa was beige, with lighter stripes over the cushions, held up on dark, curved wood. Antiques, along with the scrolling side tables and intricate glass coffee table. The walls were white, except for the emerald green one lined with bookcases. In the daylight, it might have been nice to sit in here and read; but with the chill in the air, the way the lights seemed to flicker too often – Tai was certain someone was watching them, judging them as they touched things that didn’t belong to them.

Qrow bent over a desk, one of those old-fashioned ones meant for writing letters back in the day, complete with a green feather quill and ink pot. He lifted the quill, dotting the tip on his finger.

“Still wet,” he said.

As if in response, the old radio beside him lit up, but it didn’t play music. Instead, a strange combination of noises emitted from it, the howl of wind, breathless gasps, the yowl of a cat.

Tai froze, his blood turning to ice.

“What the _fuck,”_ he whispered.

“Oooo,” Qrow said, poking at the radio. “Romantic.”

“Creepy,” Tai murmured under his breath. “Let’s just get this over with.” He sat on the edge of the sofa, sighing. “If there’s a spirit here,” he said, projecting his voice, “can you tell us your name?”

The radio clicked off.

“Jesus,” Tai whispered, shivering. Even Qrow looked surprised, no pithy quip at the ready.

Silence, too much silence, and then –

_“Ozma.”_

“Holy shit,” Tai breathed.

“Hoffa? Jimmy Hoffa?” Qrow said, his voice too loud. “What the fuck is he doing here?”

“Dude, he said _‘Ozma.’_ Like Ozma Pine. The old guy that died here and still owns the house.”

“Oh. Well, welcome! To – to your own place. I guess. What’s up?”

Tai sighed, nevertheless focusing his camera on Qrow.

_“You woke me.”_

“Whoops,” Qrow said. “Why are you here? What do you want with us?”

_“…you called me.”_

Tai remained frozen in place, certain he was hallucinating – but that kind of thing didn’t happen when someone else could hear the voices.

“Yeah, that’s fair,” Qrow mused. “Why are you hauntin’ this bitch?”

At this rate, Qrow was going to offend the ghost and get them both cursed.

Tai interjected. “He means – Mr. Ghost, sir - why are you stuck in this realm? What is keeping you from passing on to the next world?”

Silence, and then –

_“…this is where I rest.”_

Taiyang’s entire body broke out in goosbumps.

“Sweet,” Qrow said, as if this was a perfectly normal conversation. “Do we get to find a dead body?”

“No!” Tai said, too harshly. “Ozma’s body was found. He was buried properly and everything.”

“Where’d they find it?”

“I don’t know – his bedroom, I think.”

“Kinky. I bet he died – ”

“Don’t you dare while we have summoned the spirit and or demon currently residing in this residence,” Tai hissed.

“How’d you die?” Qrow called out, ignoring Tai’s warnings.

“A heart attack! He was almost a hundred. He died in his sleep. Jesus, show some respect.”

“Nah,” Qrow said, with a grin that made Tai want to slap it off his face.

“This is the _most_ evidence – “

Qrow rolled his eyes. “Until a full body apparition appears in fronta me outta thin air and tries to kill me, I won’t believe it. He’s just a pansy, hidin’ behind his ghosty ghost veil of indivisibility.”

“Invisibility.”

“Whatever. Look, I dare you to leave this place and haunt me. Follow me home to – “

“DO NOT,” Tai yelped, almost dropping the camera. “He didn’t mean that!”

“What?” Qrow said, unconcerned. “I said haunt _me_ , not you.”

“Yeah, and we live together, asshole.” Tai sighed, his chest aching with adrenaline. “You’re either going to scare him off or piss him off. Be quiet and let him speak.”

But the ghost didn’t speak. The lights went out again, Tai cursing softly as he fumbled for his flashlight.

“See?” he hissed at Qrow. “You scared him off!”

Qrow looked around the dark room, mouth closed, as if he finally realized his mistake.

They remained in place (Tai holding his breath), for nearly two minutes, the house deadly silent and still.

“PANSY!”

“Dude!” Tai said, shooting Qrow a glare that was useless in the darkness.

“We should try to summon him for realsies.”

“Oh god,” Tai groaned. “Why? I hate this.”

“Because! It’s part of the show. Just get the Ouija board or something.”

“I don’t keep one in my back pocket. It’s not a bible, Qrow.”

“You don’t keep those either.”

“Yeah, and now I’m regretting it cause this place is haunted and now you want to summon them so their corporeal bodies can dismember us.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“…I hate you,” Tai grumbled.

“Yeah, right. Gimme your phone.”

“Where’s yours?”

“Just give it.” Qrow’s expression was determined in the glow of the screen. “Evocation.”

“Eviction, what?”

“Evocation, _god_ , Tai I’m drunk and – read a book.”

“I’m not a walking encyclopedia for the supernatural! That’s why I have you. I do the historical research and you – “

“Look dashing for the camera. Got it! Step one: be well trained of mind. Oops, Tai, you’re out.”

“Funny.”

“Blah, blah, pentagram on the floor.”

_“Pentagram_. On the _floor._ This will end well.”

“Unless you’re hiding a crystal ball in your prison pocket, this is all we’ve got to see ‘im. Now…I don’ have anything to write with.”

“Wait, what are you - !”

“These are horror books, they should work. Same wavelength or – Fuck! No, Tai, not the first editions! The used ones. Jesus. Just – lay them out in the shape.”

Tai grumbled as he obeyed, placing the worn books on the floor. “Using haunted books, to summon a haunted ghost, in a haunted house? What could go wrong?”

“…Haunted ghost? Really?”

Tai gave an exasperated sigh. “There. For the record, this is a terrible idea. I might shit my pants.”

“Then you should probably find the bathroom.”

“I am not leaving you alone.”

“Aw, worried about your cohort?” Qrow said, with a shit-eating grin.

“You’ll make things worse alone. And when something happens to you, who will help me pay dorm fees?”

“You’re right, I would make it worse. Now! We need…” He squinted at the phone again. “An offering. I got it!” He crouched down, carefully placing his flask in the middle.

“Qrow, your flask is empty.”

“Fuck!” Qrow sprinted off, leaving Tai alone and opened-mouthed. But only for a moment, returning with the mug he had stolen from the cupboards. “There. Ghost coffee. They’ll love it, or they wouldn’t have made it.”

All offerings considered, it wasn’t a terrible one, and so Tai pushed aside his fear and readjusted his camera. “Okay. Now what?”

“Latin,” Qrow said, brows knitting at the phone screen. “Er. Contract obscure hocky spirit ummmm…just add face ten volunteer mayhem.”

Tai seized the phone from him impatiently. “You made that up. Stop drinking the offering!” he hissed, lightly smacking Qrow’s hand as he sipped the ghost coffee.

“No, the words ‘r’ legit. I got it from a ‘Supernatural’ fanpage.”

Tai groaned. “You’re the worst. Let me see…” He skimmed the instructions, sighing deeply.

_If I die, I’ll haunt him forever._

The thought was enough to steel himself to recite the incantation.

_“Contra obsecro hoc spiritum justa ad facientem voluntatum mayhem.”_

“Oooooo. I thought you said when we started this you would never chant Latin.”

_“Real_ Latin.”

_“Taiyang. Qrow.”_

The whisper hissed over them, as though it seeped through the ceiling, draping over them like a cold drizzle.

“OH MY GOD!” Tai screeched, seizing Qrow’s arm. _“He said our NAMES!”_

Qrow shook him off impatiently. “Eh, I’m not impressed.”

“How does he know our names?!”

“We’ve been saying them all night.”

“You don’t call me Taiyang. How could he possibly know it?”

“…Maybe it was Tai…yand Qrow?”

Tai’s panic edged into frustration. “No, he said ‘Taiyang,’ clear as fucking day, you drunk fuck.” He cleared his throat, pushing his heart back down it. “Do you want to talk to us?”

A pause, and then –

_“No.”_

“Bitch,” Qrow said.

“Qrow!”

_“Just Qrow.”_

They exchanged looks silently, Tai blinking at this statement.

“WHAT?” he said loudly, fear ebbing as indignation took over.

Qrow grinned gleefully. “Aye! Go away, Tai. You’re not invited to the cool club.”

“For fuck – Why only Qrow?” Tai asked.

“Funny how you’re not scared of him when he prefers me,” Qrow teased.

_“He’s cute.”_

Tai narrowed his eyes. “What the f – ” He whirled on Qrow. “Are you doing this? Is this some stupid prank?”

“When the fuck would I have had time to set this up? I couldn’t even get permission to enter the house.”

Tai relented, still shooting him a dirty look.

“…do you look like the old portrait?” Qrow called.

_“No,”_ came the soft, breathless reply.

“Are you seriously seducing a ghost right now?”

Qrow shrugged. “What? If he’s in his hay day…I could go up to fifty-ish.”

“He was in his nineties!”

“Yeah, but if he looks hot, who cares?”

“How would you even _have_ sex with a ghost?”

“I dunno. Blow really hard?” Qrow asked, snickering.

“What, so the wind passes through his nonexistent body?”

“Sure. The air penetrates his aura or some shit.”

“Just ‘cause he said you were cute, doesn’t mean he would have sex with you. Consent is important. Qrow, hold your breath until we leave just in case.”

“Fuck you, man.”

Tai managed a laugh. “Not a chance.”

“Fine, Ozma. Would you fuck me?”

“This is going to be the stupidest episode – ”

“Shhh,” Qrow hushed, craning his neck to listen.

Tai rolled his eyes into the resulting silence. “He’s not going to answer tha – ”

“He would if you _shut up – ”_

_“I can be convinced.”_

“Ha!” Qrow crowed, pointing an accusing finger at Tai.

Tai turned away with a noise of disgust. “Stupidest. Episode. Ever.”

“Dude, you got your ghost. Don’t throw a fit because it’s not exactly how you wanted it.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Tai said. “This has to be a joke.”

“Can you explain it? The lights and the sounds and the radio?”

Tai pouted. “No.”

“Maybe you’re jelly?”

_“Hell_ no. I don’t want ghost dick anywhere near me.”

“Wait, that’s a good point,” Qrow reasoned. “I prefer top, but I can negotiate. That cool?”

Tai made a horrified face. “You’re gonna let him splooge in you? Dude, _gross.”_

“Christ, don’t say _splooge._ Nah, we can use cond – oh.”

“Yeeaaaah. Thinking twice now?”

Qrow laughed. “Nope.”

“Oh my god. You would fuck anything.”

“Not you. A man has to have standards.”

“Screw you, man. Do ghosts even have the ability to…?”

“I’m willing to find out. For science.”

“Okay, but if you give him a blowjob, I’m never sharing drinks with you again. Ever.”

“Wonder what it’s going to taste like?”

“Ghost dick?” Tai asked.

“Ghost semen.”

Tai groaned. “This conversation isn’t making the cut. It’s gross.”

“I’m serious, Tai!”

Tai sighed, scratching the back of his head. “I dunno, man…moist…air?”

“So what, it’s just like having a humidifier up your ass?”

Tai sighed again, even longer. “Sure, why not. We’re going to have to cut so much of this in the edit…”

“Hey, Oz!” Qrow called.

“Ozma,” Tai corrected.

“Oz, can I go down on you first? I need to take tasting notes for my autobiography.”

“’Qrow Branwen: Ghost Fucker,’” Tai said sarcastically.

“Sounds like a best seller.”

Silence fell, both boys searching the dark, still ceiling for the disembodied voice. Tai checked his watch after a minute, then the batteries of his camera.

_Still plenty of life to record…whatever the hell this is turning out to be._

“You scared him away,” Tai said at last. “Again.”

“Nah, he’s prolly prepping.”

“Right, because you’re sooooo irresistible.”

“Your mom thought so.”

“Yeah, well your sister thought the same thing about me.”

“Dude!” Qrow struck his arm, the camera faltering as Tai started laughing.

“How do we get him back?” Qrow asked, checking his own camera battery. “Anything is better than your smug ass.”

“I dunno. Make him another offering?”

Qrow shrugged, rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms.

“What are you doing?” Tai asked warily.

“Play some music.”

Tai opened up his music app, hitting a playlist at random. Poison’s “Every Rose Has It’s Thorn” began to play softly in the room.

Qrow scoffed. “Good music, Tai! God damn it. You can’t strip to that shit.”

Tai shut off the music, shooting him an incredulous look. “Seriously? You’re going to strip?”

“You said make him an offering.”

“Oh, god _damn_ it. If he didn’t already say you were cute – ”

“You’d duct tape me to a chair, I know, I know,” Qrow interrupted. “But this might work. So play something good.”

Tai made a face, but he obliged, thumbing down his playlist until he found something suitable.

“Cherry Pie” by Warrant took the place of Poison, Qrow’s face twisting into disbelief.

“Seriously?”

“It was the first one that came to mind! It’s a lot of pressure!” Tai hissed.

“Well, I don’t have a cherry, but a pro can work with anything.”

“We’re not even going to have an episode by the time you’re done,” Tai grumbled, averting his eyes as Qrow began to sway his hips, pulling at his shirt. He grinned at Tai, shameless in every way, unaffected by the number of times Tai rolled his eyes.

The shirt hit the floor and Qrow flirted with his pants buttons, hips moving more aggressively now.

“Please keep your boxers on,” Tai broke in dryly.

“What boxers?”

His pants hit the floor at the final beat of the song, Tai whipping his head away with a series of curses.

“God damn it, Qrow!”

“What? I shaved.”

“For fuck’s – just put that away!”

“Alright, alright. Guess he’s too busy beatin’ it to tap it.”

Tai made a long, drawn out noise of disgust. “We need _real_ evidence. Stuff we don’t have to censor. So stop being gross and _find_ something.”

Qrow rolled his eyes, grabbing his shirt and wriggling back into it.

“God just. Ugh. Let’s get back to serious time. With our pants on.”

“Serious talk to thin air.”

Tai scoffed. “You do it all the time.”

“Do I?”

“I told you, you talk in your sleep when you drink too much.”

“So every Friday night?” Qrow said, winking at the camera.

“Pretty much. At least you don’t get up every time.”

“I get up?”

“Sometimes,” Tai said, nudging one of the books on the floor out of the pentagram shape – just in case. “I woke up to you standing in front of the open freezer with a spatula in your hand complaining the hamsters were stealing your waffles.”

Qrow laughed. “Sounds about right.”

“Right how? How is that normal?”

“A man has to protect his waffles.”

Tai sighed, opening his mouth, his words cut off by the sudden, unmistakable sound of heavy footsteps.

Both boys glanced upward, following the steps as they hurried immediately overhead.

“Holy _shit,”_ Tai said, shrinking down, as if the ceiling could collapse. And with this house – who knew? “Shit, we’ve really pissed it off now.”

But Qrow was already at the foot of the staircase, camera pointed up. “And on that note! I’m going upstairs.”

_“Towards_ the noise?!” Tai asked, his voice hitting a high note of panic.

“Isn’t that what we’re ‘ere ta do?” Qrow asked reasonably. _“Real_ evidence?” he mimicked.

“Yeah, but – “

“Alrigh’. We’ll split up. I’ll take upstairs. You keep looking downstairs.”

Tai’s heart jumped up his throat. Splitting up sounded like the _worst_ possible thing to do right now, as the ceiling shook with aggressive footsteps.

“Why do you get upstairs?”

“Do you want to go where there is no exit, trapped for the ghosty demon to have his way with you?” Qrow asked, pausing on the stairs.

“Why is everything sexual with you?” Tai hissed, more scared than angry.

“Pft. Look at me.”

Tai nodded, chewing on his lips nervously. “Just…don’t die, okay? Come back in one piece.”

“If I come back at all, wooooo,” Qrow said, waving his free arm, whirling the camera from Tai’s face back to the stairs.

Tai watched him disappear up the dark stairs, the footsteps halting very suddenly. He swallowed, slowly turning his flashlight over the dark living room, the air colder than ever.

_If the ghost doesn’t kill him, I will._

*

Qrow was faster coming upstairs than Ozpin expected, given both his intoxication and his unfamiliarity with the old house. Ozpin was only halfway through the bookcase door, meeting Qrow’s eyes in the darkness, the flashlight roving over Ozpin’s body. Qrow stared for a long moment, and then -

“Did the strip tease actually work?”

Ozpin flushed instantly.

Of _course_ a perfect stranger drunkenly taking off his pants wasn’t going to –

Well. Qrow wasn’t _really_ a stranger, not after watching him for so long online –

Not that Ozpin was inclined to –

_What, exactly?_ He could almost hear Ozma’s chiding voice echoing in his head, amused.

“Oh dear,” Ozpin murmured, his face warm. He tried to resist glancing toward Qrow’s waist, his pants rebuttoned.

_Shame,_ Ozpin thought before he could stop himself. The blush returned, violently hot.

“Look, I didn’t think you’d have a corporeal form, but I think I have a condom in my glove box if – “

“Oh, good lord,” Ozpin hissed, the hallway positively stifling now. “I’m not a ghost!”

Qrow’s eyebrows rose slowly. “Oh shit,” he said, after a moment. “We broke into your house.”

Ozpin felt the hairs on his body stand on end as Qrow’s eyes roamed across each inch.

_I really should have gotten dressed today. Or put on a bathrobe younger than him._

“Offer still stands,” Qrow grinned.

The noise that escaped Ozpin was a blend of too many things, embarrassment and mild horror and a few other things he declined to acknowledge. His blush was furious and relentless now, casting his eyes away from Qrow’s shameless smirk and toward the study.

“Come with me,” Ozpin said, and pushed the bookcase door open.


	3. The Ghosts and Demons of Taiyang Xiao Long

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Qrow is faced with the truth of Pine Manor as Ozpin is faced with a crush he thought he would never meet; a plot evolves between the two of them and the ghost of Ozma Pine.

Qrow followed Ozpin through the bookcase door, the hall dark and silent behind them, watching Ozpin close it with a soft snap.

_I suppose the jig is up._

Qrow stared, at Ozpin, back at the bookcase (which looked like quite a normal door from this side of things), and back at Ozpin.

“Sooo,” he said, at length, drawing out the syllable. “Not a ghost.”

“I...well.” Ozpin gave an amused, helpless sort of motion with his hands, realizing many things at once - that he had not thought through what would happen when they eventually discovered him, or that he still wore a bathrobe and pajamas, or that Qrow would appear wholly unmoved by the entire adventure. “You never truly thought I was.”

Qrow shrugged ruefully. “Always a skeptic.”

“Welcome to my house, I suppose,” Ozpin said at last. “I would ask that you make yourselves at home, but it’s clear you already have.”

Qrow's brows arched as he processed the newly presented information. "Yeah, my dick swingin’ ‘round your living room felt pretty at home. By the way you’re blushin’ I’d guess you caught the show. You got cameras or something?"

Ozpin coughed, looking anywhere but the smug young man in his study. “I…well. It was unexpected, and I assure you, I looked away. But then again, finding you in my home tonight is shocking enough without the…ah, fanfare.” He motioned forward at the security desk, pulling the chair out to show Qrow the multiple monitors that watched over the house.

“Hey, you’re the one who propositioned me first,” Qrow smirked, almost sultry, if not for his constant gently swaying stance.

“I – ” Ozpin stammered uselessly. “I don’t recall that. I think _you_ made the first…overt suggestion.”

“You called me _cute.”_

Ozpin coughed again. “…I suppose that’s true. But it was part of the game…”

“Game?” Qrow’s grin fell to a frown. “I was serious.”

Ozpin blinked at him. “You can’t seriously expect to seduce a ghost.”

“Not with your attitude. You can’t just toy with a man’s emotions like that.”

“Well, as I’m not a ghost…” Ozpin said, exasperated.

“We need a condom,” Qrow concluded.

“You really must be drunk,” Ozpin muttered, the heat on his face relentless. “You don’t even know my name.”

“I’ve had anonymous sex before, but seems like you prefer an introduction. Qrow Branwen,” Qrow gave a mock salute. “Amateur ghost hunter, as you probably put together.”

Ozpin sighed in resignation. “To tell the truth, I declined calling the authorities once I recognized you two. Call it a favor, from a fan.”

"A fan, huh? Tonight seems to be my lucky night. Not arrested. Again. Hot admirer whisking me away to - " Qrow looked around the study, eyeing the security features. “A secret sex chamber. Any chance you're an insatiable incubus? Cause I'd be three for three then and I'm lookin' forward to repaying you for not calling the cops."

The blush came violently; Ozpin knew how Qrow spoke on the show and he was certainly no less overt now, but it was a very different thing to have it directed at Ozpin rather than nonexistent ghosts and paintings of long dead figures.

“I - I’m afraid not,” Ozpin stammered. “I’m just a bit of a recluse. I do a lot of writing in this room and I’m difficult to rouse when focused. Thus, it’s also something of a security room, not exactly a - well.” He cleared his throat, unwilling to repeat what Qrow has said, especially considering the camera in his hand.

"We can change that if you want." 

Ozpin’s laugh was nervous, butterflies erupting in his stomach. 

“I...ah.” He cleared his throat, the study suddenly very warm. “Thank you, no. But I am at the advantage. I know who you and Mr. Xiao Long are, but I haven’t properly introduced myself.” He offered a hand. “Ozpin.”

Qrow stared, his mouth falling open. For once, he seemed to be speechless.

But it didn’t last long.

"Ozpin?! _The_ Ozpin? Author of _Only in Whispers_ , literal ghostwriter, and best damn horror writer for this century? _That_ Ozpin?"

Ozpin’s hand lowered in surprise. “You’ve heard of me?”

"Yeah! I mean, you're the inspiration for most of my college career. I've been reading your books since I was in middle school. You're the reason I started passing English. Fuck, you’re the reason I’m in grad school!”

Ozpin felt the incredulity on his face.

“College,” he repeated lightly. He sat down in his desk chair, sighing, a forlorn smile on his lips. “Middle school. Has it been that long?” He gave Qrow an analyzing glance, trying to determine his age.

“Maybe I should be on a list,” he murmured.

"'Top Five Sexiest Authors,' maybe,” Qrow said, putting down his camera, flicking the record button off. "But since you're still alive, you top that list."

“Despite my advanced years?” Ozpin said dryly, watching Qrow lean his rear against the edge of the desk, the wood cutting into the softness there. He tore his eyes away with a quiet cough, the blush returning quickly.

It was strange, the way he felt like he knew Qrow personally already, just from watching his show. And yet, Qrow didn’t seem to act any differently here. It didn’t help that Qrow was even more handsome in person, the scruff on his chin clearly well-groomed, his smirk frequent. 

“You’re…too kind.”

Ozpin almost kicked himself - a writer with no idea what to say. Qrow wasn’t being polite; he was being obvious. But he was young and drinking and Ozpin could hardly believe the interest was real.

"Enough to show you what else my lips are good at 'sides giving well-earned compliments."

Ozpin stammered sounds without words, his face alight. 

“You _must_ be drunk,” he managed after a moment of embarrassed recovery. “People...don’t talk like that. Not seriously.”

Qrow grinned, leaning too close, Ozpin’s breath stopping. "You still think I'm not serious?"

“I…I’m sure you are,” Ozpin said softly, calcified in place by the hand that gently lifted his chin. “You’re also intoxicated, and young, and I…I…”

Qrow bent over him, brushing lips together, softly at first, exploring.

Ozpin froze, eyes wide despite thinking, not a moment before, how much he wished Qrow to push on with his reckless attention. Qrow’s hand slipped from Ozpin’s jaw to his neck, Ozpin’s eyes fluttering closed when Qrow’s fingers wove into his hair. Qrow tasted like whiskey but his lips were soft, pressing against his with just enough pressure to make Ozpin’s stomach flip.

_Not all talk,_ Ozpin thought absently, instinctively reaching to pull Qrow closer. 

Qrow complied, crawling atop Ozpin's and straddling the man's lap, effectively pinning him to the posh leather office chair. 

Ozpin let out a soft breath at the sudden weight, scarcely believing that this was happening - his quiet, solitary life so interrupted, a beautiful young man in his lap who seemed to want him for reasons Ozpin could hardly understand, a pleasant warmth growing in his gut as Qrow recaptured his lips, Qrow’s hands digging into Ozpin’s hair, pulling enough to approach that exquisite line between pain and pleasure.

_Just like the beginning of scene three in my tawdry story…_

Qrow ground against him and Ozpin flailed at that, one hand knocking against something on his desk as his body reacted. Qrow made a smug noise and then his teeth were around Ozpin’s bottom lip, pressing harder, his hips giving Ozpin a clear sign of interest now -

_“Ah - !”_

Qrow’s hands were inside his robe now, wandering freely across bare skin, Ozpin’s chest heaving, his mind fogged over with the stimulation of every other part of his body. Qrow’s fingers paused over a nipple and the pinch ripped a moan from Ozpin’s lips again, smothered by Qrow’s mouth.

Somewhere, very far away, Ozpin heard an unexpected voice answer.

“...Qrow?”

Ozpin drew his mouth from Qrow’s to cock his head toward the source, but Qrow either didn’t hear or didn’t care, for his lips and teeth traveled to Ozpin’s throat.

“Ah!” Ozpin’s hands tightened around the young man, his attentions too lovely to ignore.

“Qrow, where are you?”

_Ah. Mr. Xiao Long._

Ozpin had forgotten about him entirely. 

“Qrow, I swear if that’s you, I’m gonna kill you.”

Ozpin suppressed another sound of need at Qrow’s insistent hips, peering around him at the monitors behind -

And the green light on the intercom.

“Hell,” Ozpin breathed, and slammed a hand down, the color shifting to red. “I think your friend may have heard us...”

On the monitor, Tai whirled about the living room, his face one of panic.

“Qrow?” he called meekly. “Qrow, this isn’t funny anymore. I think the ghost just told me to go to hell.”

Qrow growled impatiently at the interruption. "Fucking cockblocked just when it was gettin' good." He sighed, cradling Ozpin's face in his palms for one last kiss, the sort of kiss bad romance novels would call _passionate_ , with a touch too much force and tongue and intensity.

It had been years since Ozpin had been kissed so well, perhaps even a decade, his head dizzy from it –

"Duty calls, but we are so finishing this later," Qrow added with one last thrust of his hips, complete with his signature mischievous smirk. Ozpin bit back his reaction, unenthusiastically letting Qrow slip from the chair, swallowing thickly. Qrow rose, his reluctance palpable while shifting the erection in his pants to the side in poor attempt to retrain his attentions (Ozpin turning his head politely, as to pretend he did not notice).

Ozpin shifted in the chair, fussing with the tie of his robe, smoothing his hair, tearing his eyes from Qrow’s hands (and other parts), wincing slightly as he crossed his legs.

He let out a short breath, frustration and embarrassment blended into it. 

“I...ah. I must have hit the button for the intercom when...” Ozpin adjusted his glasses, looking away. “Well. I don’t think he heard much beyond...” 

_Yes, I’m a fine wordsmith_.

He offered Qrow a look, pleading him not to say more.

"Me jumping on you and goin' to town," Qrow said bluntly, nodding.

_He really does speak like that._

Ozpin sighed, willing down the heat in his cheeks.

"Well. Let's see what this baby can do with a sexually frustrated drunk behind the wheel." Qrow waved for the intercom to activate, leaning in with a dramatic, tormented whisper: "Tai...Tai can you hear me? Help me…”

On the monitor, Tai whirled about in the dark living room, flashlight blinding the security cameras briefly.

“Qrow? Qrow! Where are you?”

Qrow grinned at Ozpin. “How do I make it come from another room?”

“Like the kitchen?” Ozpin pressed the button for the kitchen speakers, Qrow giving him an enthused thumbs up.

“I – I don't know where I am,” he whined into the microphone. “It's so...dark... so cold..."

Ozpin bit back a snicker, listening to Taiyang’s plaintive wail over the speaker. He waited until Qrow flicked the intercom off again.

“You’re so cruel,” Ozpin said, watching Taiyang slowly creep back toward the kitchen.

"You like it, or you wouldn't be a fan," Qrow winked, briefly turning the intercom on to ominously gasp before shutting it off. "Out of curiosity, how long have you had a thing for me?”

The blush returned, but gently, Ozpin managing half a smile. “Ah,” he said, pushing a lock of hair from his eyes. “Well. I’ve…watched your show for some time. I found it while doing research for a book, and…you two were so lively, so loud. Sometimes the house felt a little less empty when you two were on.

“But...I confess that you’ve been the reason I watch your show lately,” Ozpin offered, plucking at a loose thread on his sleeve. “Your levity reminds me not to take things so seriously. And my house is always empty, so perhaps I let myself have a bit of a crush. I’ve been…isolated for a very long time.”

“Yeah? You don’t…see people? At all?”

Ozpin shrugged. “I didn’t _intend_ on becoming a recluse. I inherited the house, I’m nocturnal, and I work from home. It just…happened.”

“Lucky you,” Qrow laughed. “Becomin’ a ghost to get on the show and meet me.”

“Oh, well, I never expected you would break into my house,” Ozpin said dryly.

Qrow chuckled again. "Glad I could shatter your expectations then. Too bad though. Had I known you were this hot on top of how you can write..." He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth wistfully. "So many missed years of prime masturbation material."

Ozpin flushed anew, almost grateful for the blood flow upward.

“I’m not inclined for the spotlight,” he stammered. “Despite my editor’s best efforts, I never allowed my photograph on my books. I just like to tell stories.”

“We should've done this episode sooner..." Qrow's hand trailed up Ozpin's thigh seemingly of its own accord as he made eye contact with the older man, a mischievous light dancing about in his eyes.

"What other things can I play with?"

Ozpin swallowed so loudly he was certain Qrow could hear it, struggling for any sort of coherent response.

“I...ah...can control most things from this room.”

Yes, best to focus on frightening Taiyang half to death or else Ozpin would forget how to say no to Qrow’s increasingly tempting innuendos.

He fumbled with his phone, thinking of little else except the hand inching up Ozpin’s leg.

“Appliances, lights, security...it’s all here.” He offered the phone to Qrow, forcing himself not to fidget under his prolonged touch.

Qrow's wandering hand relented (Ozpin let out a breath of simultaneous relief and disappointment), instead grasping the camera. He adjusted it on himself, Ozpin out of frame, fiddling with the proffered phone settings.

He winked at the camera before addressing his future viewers. "And to catch us up, ladies and gents, we just unwittingly trespassed on the house of the world's hottest author - take my word for it - and now we have a smart house controlled by a phone our fingertips. It's a shame I'm so clumsy..."

He pressed a button, the dishwasher coming to life with a roar of old pipes.

"Oops!” Qrow said. “Oh no, look at him go!" He snickered relentlessly as the camera caught Tai on the monitors, tearing out of the kitchen as though pursued.

"Poor bastard, I almost feel sorry for him," Qrow said, still chuckling, his hand hovering over the radio controls. "What we got in the player for atmosphere, Oz?"

“I can offer dimmed or flickering lights,” Ozpin said. “There is a way to make it seem like the power failed if I just...”

He waited until Taiyang paused, chest heaving, in the living room, head turning about wildly.

The lights flickered on overhead as Ozpin adjusted the settings; Tai’s head whipped upward, a tired groan escaping him.

“Qrow?” he asked again, his voice several octaves too high.

Ozpin’s fingers hovered over the controls, ready to plunge the room back into darkness. “Your friend doesn’t have a bad heart, does he?”

Qrow laughed maniacally. "He will when we get done with him," he said, turning on the radio, a string quartet playing.

Tai shrieked, backing away from the radio. Then he turned and ran, Ozpin switching to cameras in the entryway, in front of the staircase, yell-whispering for Qrow into his walkie.

“I got an idea,” Qrow whispered, pulling his walkie from his belt and hurrying to the bookcase door. He pushed it open, Ozpin watching over his shoulder as he tossed it down the hall. The walkie bounced on the floor with a jarring crash, an explosion in the silent room, the device sliding down the stairs. Ozpin’s lips parted he listened to the _thump thump_ down each step.

_This isn’t a half-bad scene for a horror book_ , he thought absently.

Qrow shook with laughter, wiping moisture from his eyes as he listened to his unfortunate friend suffer, a series of panicked curses echoing up from the bottom floor.

“You’re not inclined toward mercy, are you?” Ozpin whispered.

"If I were, would you be having this much fun?" Qrow asked breathlessly. “I have another idea.” He seized Ozpin by the hand and dragged him from the bookcase (Ozpin hurriedly closed it behind him), pulling him into the bedroom next door. Qrow shut the door behind him, flashlight spanning the room.

“Bedposts, score!” he said. “I knew you’d have an old-fashioned bed. Any chance you have handcuffs?”

“H-hand…cuffs…?” Ozpin said, his voice failing at the barrage of imagery that question brought forth. The blush was there – always, as though he really _was_ a lovesick teenager, incessantly dumbfounded by his first crush.

He didn’t have any, as far as he knew, and the overwhelming disappointment was startling.

“Ah. Prolly not. Dress ties?”

“Oh. Yes, I have – ” Ozpin bit his lip at his own eagerness. He coughed lightly. “I have a few.”

“Great. We need four. Wait – five.”

“F-five?” Ozpin asked, his head already filling with ideas of what that fifth tie would restrain. “In my closet. A…a moment…”

He hadn’t even asked exactly what the ties were _for_ , and now the moment had passed and the obvious answer seemed unseemly, impossible –

And something Ozpin seriously considered, given how he turned on a small lamp, quickly half his torso disappeared into his closet, hands groping blindly for the tie rack. He seized half a dozen, giving them enough of a glance to toss one back (Hugo Boss, which seemed a shame even for something Ozpin was certain he wanted very much).

He squinted when he emerged again, opening his mouth to offer what he had (in so many ways), blinking when a soft something struck his foot. In a manner that would have been comical had everything not felt quite so desperate, Ozpin’s eyes trailed up to where Qrow stood in the middle of his bedroom, gloriously bare-chested, his shirt discarded carelessly before Ozpin.

The ties slipped from his hands.

Qrow grinned wolfishly, as if he read Ozpin’s mind. “Hope you don’t mind me gettin’ your sheets a lil dirty.”

Ozpin watched, mouth slightly open, as Qrow kicked off his shoes and climbed onto the bed, stretching long limbs across the green covers.

_I should have made the bed today,_ he thought, half-panicked.

But perhaps his pillows would smell like Qrow after –

“What…exactly is your plan?” he managed, his tongue dry. The bedroom was stiflingly hot now, Ozpin’s fight-or-flight response triggered by nothing more than a bit of very enticing bare skin. Certainly he was _actually_ suggesting – with Taiyang in the house –

“Tie me up,” Qrow’s voice drifted deeper, suggestive, chest pulled taut as his hands reached for the bed posts.

And yet, despite the order, so easily given, with such confidence, Ozpin stood at the foot of the bed and stared. His own self-insert fiction could not have approached such vulgar levels so quickly, and so he froze, shocked into non-action even with how harshly his heart beat in response to Qrow’s shameless offer.

“I can tie the first two if you want, but I’ll need you to do my hands...Do you think claw marks down my chest would look good?”

“Claw – ?” Ozpin shook himself back to reality. “I – isn’t this moving a bit quickly? I don’t know if I can – well – ”

Qrow gave a short laugh with too many meanings. “If you’re an exhibitionist, I’m game, but if you’re not, I need Tai to find me tied up and gagged. You can have your way with me after that.”

A small wave of relief washed over Ozpin, only to evaporate with the heat of his blush.

“I – well. I thought you meant – ”

_He_ did _mean it, though_.

For a lack of anything at all to say, Ozpin laughed, a nervous sound that he knew betrayed every little, horrible thing he had been thinking.

_Best to just follow his lead._

About performing a practical joke, that is.

Ozpin bit his lip as he helped fasten Qrow to the bedposts, distrustful of anything and everything he might say aloud.

He felt Qrow watching his every move, a hidden smile tugging at his lips. “And the claw marks? Too much?” Qrow asked, his voice strained low as he tested the strength of the ties.

“Oh. I…I’ve never, ah, scratched anyone before,” Ozpin said, deliberately avoiding Qrow’s eyes.

“You’ve really been alone for a long ass time, huh?” Qrow said, amused.

Ozpin swallowed, skimming the increasingly ridiculous amount of skin Qrow bared at him, half-annoyed that Qrow expected Ozpin to think straight at all with the show he was putting on. “Yes,” he whispered.

“Go ahead…Just put your hands on my chest.”

Ozpin swallowed again (surely it was the wine the evening before that had dried him out so thoroughly), hesitantly reaching out with splayed fingers, pausing for a second just over Qrow’s skin before he steeled himself and pressed down.

Qrow was cool to the touch, skin soft but muscles taut, Ozpin’s fingers exploring until he remembered himself, almost pulling away again.

“Good, now press down with your weight like you’re getting on top of me.”

Ozpin shot a glare at him, an act of self-defense.

_He’s half your age,_ he chided himself. _Stop letting him toy with you._

Fueled by this vein of spite, Ozpin climbed on the bed, straddling Qrow’s hips, hands still planted firmly on his chest.

“Hard enough?” he asked, catching the innuendo too late and cursing the blush that roared over him as a result.

But no quip followed Ozpin’s act of defiance; in fact, Qrow’s breath hitched, his expression shifting into something urgent.

Ozpin stared, astonished he could have such an effect on anyone, let alone someone so young and attractive -

“You tell me...” Qrow growled, and thrust his hips up.

Ozpin let out a noise of surprise and something else entirely, composure vacillating as he faltered over Qrow, nails digging into his flesh as though intentional. He could hear Qrow’s altered breathing and that made the moment even more desperate, Ozpin reminding himself yet again this was for a prank and nothing more.

Even as Qrow huffed suggestively under him.

“I – I think…” Ozpin drew an unsteady breath. “I think it’s enough leverage.”

“Okay…drag your nails down my chest,” Qrow replied, through ragged breaths.

There were many things Ozpin wanted to do to Qrow’s chest, but now was not the time (possibly, maybe, if he told himself so over and over like a mantra). So he braced himself on his knees, locking his legs to prevent his body’s desire to meet Qrow at the groin again, pressing his weight on his hands.

With another deep breath and a channeling of his current frustrations, he dragged his nails

downward, praying that the act of causing Qrow pain might diminish other thoughts.

The hiss which escaped Qrow’s lips was more than satisfactory, it was hedonistic, Qrow’s back arching to meet Ozpin’s nails as they raked their way into his tender flesh. “Lower,” Qrow demanded when Ozpin hesitated at his navel. “Down to the pants.”

Pants which perked up from Qrow’s abdomen, due to him straining against his zipper.

Ozpin gasped at the contact, hands withdrawing into fists.

“You’re not making this easy,” he murmured, blood racing as he regarded the untouched flesh of Qrow’s trim waist, the button and zippers of –

He ran his nails down to prevent his hands from something worse, feeling Qrow buck against him again and suppressing the groan that said the obvious.

_Was it normal, this intensity? This chemistry?_

Ozpin couldn’t be sure if he was fueled more by his loneliness, by the first skin contact in too many years, or if this belonged to Qrow alone – the slender, smug, foul-mouthed, beautiful young man who promised a night to fulfill the most primal sort of hunger.

“Fuck,” Qrow drawled through a long sigh. He slammed his head into Ozpin’s pillows as if to knock some focus into himself. “Gag me,” he said through gritted teeth, then opened his mouth, an offering large enough for…

_Calm yourself, old man._

He took the last tie and draped it over Qrow’s lips, ignoring the intensity of the young man’s stare as Ozpin worked. Gagging Qrow was satisfying by way of relief; Ozpin could simply avoid looking at him, spared the heaviness of his breathing, the low growl of clear frustration. He sighed, this time with less duress, slipping from Qrow’s lap.

“I’ll coax your friend up here,” Ozpin said, still not looking at the attractive young man – half naked – tied to his bed.

_I should probably put on proper pants first._

Now Ozpin looked at Qrow, helplessly restrained, and felt the smallest amount of vindictiveness. He went to his closet, rummaging for a pair of slacks. Facing away from Qrow, he slipped them on under the robe (adjusting things that had not quite yet returned to a polite state). But now he dropped the robe entirely, ignoring the burn of his cheeks as he searched for a shirt, halfway delighted in his vengeance and taking more time than necessary to button it up (which had nothing to do with the gentle shake of his hands).

Muffled protests from the bed only served to spread a smirk on Ozpin’s lips, which grew still when he heard the creaking of the bed as the man struggled further.

“Sounds as though those ties will hold well enough,” Ozpin said, with an airiness he didn’t feel. “I’ll see to your friend now.” He hurried from the room amidst another gagged objection, smothering his laughter at his own brazen behavior – not to mention the very real signs that his longtime, impossible crush might in some ways be very reciprocated.


	4. The Reveal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taiyang finds the courage to rescue Qrow from a ghost and almost immediately regrets it; the ghosts of Pine Manor are revealed.

Tai stood at the bottom of the stairs, hands shaking and sweating, grasping onto his camera and Qrow’s walkie, staring up at the dark landing above him. The walkie had stumbled down the stairs moments before, angrily spitting static and his own terrified voice back at him. The house had been cold before but now it was icy, deadly silent after the clash of electronics on the old stairs, the shrill strings that came from a radio with a life of its own.

But Qrow made no further calls to him, here or from disembodied sources in the rest of the house, and Tai knew he had to go upstairs and rescue him. He steeled himself with that motivation, for the need to see Qrow’s face and hear him make one more stupid joke.

_For my best friend._

He took a long breath and let it out, slowly turning the camera toward his face.

“I have to go up,” he whispered. “To find Qrow and rescue him. What you’re about to see could be the first real evidence of a ghost.”

Never mind that this was exactly how people died in horror movies; the smartest thing to do would be to get the hell out of the house and call the police. Not that they would believe him about the ghost, but a missing person was a missing person.

There was also the small detail about breaking into the house.

And so Tai stepped up, legs weak and trembling, shoving Qrow’s walkie into his belt so he could grasp at the railings. The stairs creaked – of course they did – but no other noise came from above, the cold air heavy in his lungs.

He paused near the top, flashlight skimming over the landing. A large green area rug spread out at his feet, gold thread glinting under the beam. A few busts sat unblinking on marble pillars, and for a moment Tai held his breath, expecting one to turn like the Haunted Mansion at Disneyland. But nothing changed, no gravelly noise from a ghostly statue as it moved toward him. A number of closed doors flanked the hall, coming to a dead end with another large bookcase –

Tai squinted, lowering his flashlight. 

_Is that a light?_

With a great surge of courage, Tai flicked off his flashlight. Down the hall, he could now clearly see a spark of light, coming from a door, slightly ajar.

“Qrow?” he whispered urgently, but the hallway remained silent, breathless.

He crept forward, heart audible in his ears, wincing with every creak of the old floorboards. His eyes didn’t remain in place for more than a second, desperate to note everything at once in case something changed in a split second. There were more paintings on the walls, more faces than just old Ozma Pine – families, one of a much, much younger Ozma, a hand on a beautiful woman’s shoulder, a freckled baby in her lap. Then the freckled baby grown, dark hair unruly but his smile genuine. Another of him with his own baby, with a shock of straw-colored hair. The last, just before the open door, featured a young man in a dark suit, regal expression behind glasses, straw hair already turned to silver.

Tai scanned the paintings as he crawled forward, trying to get as much detail on camera as he could, shooting nervous glances at the door by the bookcase. 

“Qrow?” he whispered again, pausing at the threshold.

No answer – not that Tai really expected it, swallowing over a dry throat.

And then –

Something.

Tai leaned forward, straining his ears. It came again, a soft, muffled sound, almost like when Qrow would talk in his sleep, facedown against the pillow.

The realization chilled Tai to the bone.

He pushed forward, using his fear to fuel him, but he halted in the doorway. The room was a bedroom, a great Victorian four-post in the center of it, a small desk light on in the opposite corner. But on the bed –

Qrow, bound and gagged.

He made another muffled sound when he saw Tai, straining against the ties. 

“Jesus,” Tai breathed.

_This is how we die._

He rushed in, oblivious to the potential danger, only hoping to untie Qrow and run for the hills and never set foot in this cursed house again. He ripped down Qrow’s gag first, his friend spluttering as he took a deep breath of air.

“Who did this?” Tai hissed, putting the camera on the bed as he struggled with the knot on Qrow’s wrist.

“The ghost!” Qrow said, his voice hoarse. “Tai - !”

Tai whirled, in time to see something white and fluttery move slowly by the open door. He felt his heart stop, his face drain, aghast that he had brought them here, to face something with clearly malicious intent –

Without thinking, he reached for a book on the side table and hurled it, all of his athletic instincts kicking in to save them, to buy a few seconds of time –

The book met its mark and made a surprisingly solid _whump,_ and then it collapsed, melting into a pool of stark white.

Qrow’s gasp echoed Tai’s, a pulse of elation running through his heart. On the bed, Qrow had ceased to pull at the restraints, looking horrified.

“I got him!” Tai exclaimed, a thrill running through him, breaking up the terror. “Qrow, I got the ghost!”

“He’s not a ghost, you fuckin’ idiot!” Qrow’s voice had changed; rather than scared, he sounded angry, the fabric straining as he pulled against them. 

“What?” Tai shot another look at the white figure in a heap on the floor, hearing the faintest groan. 

In an instant, all the terror and horror of the night evaporated, leaving Tai blank, devoid of anything in its place.

_”What!”_

“He’s not a fuckin’ _ghost,_ Tai!”

“What the hell is it, then?”

“It’s a _guy,_ Sherlock,” Qrow snapped. “He owns the house and you just hit him in the face with a book!”

Tai stared, a new sort of horror creeping up.

“Oh shit,” Tai said, hurrying from Qrow’s side to the white figure. “What’s he doing wearing sheets in the middle of the night?”

“It was meant as a prank,” came a soft voice from under the sheet. Tai pulled it off to reveal a man with silver hair, glasses dangling from one ear and a hand cupped over one eye. 

_The man in the last painting._

“My apologies if we took things too far,” he said, his voice gentle. “Qrow assured me – ”

“Of course it was his idea,” Tai muttered darkly, helping the man unhook his glasses. “Look, man, I’m sorry, but I was scared shitless – ”

“No apology needed,” the man said lightly. “I’ve seen your show enough to have known the risks. And clearly you play some manner of sport, if I’ve judged your arm correctly.”

“Baseball,” Tai said ruefully.

“Oz, you okay?” Qrow’s voice carried into the hall with a note of concern, Tai glaring impotently from where he knelt.

_Bastard sure won’t ask if I’m okay._

“I’m fine,” the man said. He lowered his voice to Tai. “How bad does it appear?”

Tai regarded the blue mark on Oz’s face with pressed lips. If his eye was that dark already, by morning it would be a hell of a black eye.

“That bad?” Oz said, with a soft laugh. “Well. It will make for a good story while it heals.”

“I’m _really_ sorry.”

“Don’t be. We pranked you rather rudely and you acted in self-defense. At least you missed my nose.”

“I’d rather hit Qrow in the face.”

Now Oz gave a real laugh, picking himself off the floor. “The night is still young,” he said.

“So this place isn’t really haunted?” Tai asked, unsure whether to be relieved or disappointed.

“Do I look like a ghost?” Oz asked lightly.

“But it was all a prank?” Tai pressed. “The voices, the stuff turning on by itself?”

“An intercom and a convenient app for my smart appliances,” Oz said.

Tai let out a long breath, the familiar feeling of being a total idiot creeping back in, like it did every episode of his stupid show. “That simple, huh?”

“That simple, I’m afraid.” Oz offered a repentant smile.

“How do you know Qrow? Did you two plan this – ”

“Come now, you must be exhausted. Let me offer you a bit of genuine hospitality, and I’ll explain everything.”

“Oi!” Qrow called from the bedroom. “Anyone untying me any time soon?”

“Let him rot,” Tai said, loudly enough to carry.

“Hey! _Tai!”_

“Your new boyfriend can untie you!”

Oz gave Tai a look of surprise, his cheeks darkening a moment later. 

Tai blinked, eyes narrowing. _I swear, if Qrow really did flirt with this poor guy -_

“He’s not my…” Oz began to murmur, interrupted by another shout from Qrow.

“Oz! Little help? Or d’you like me better this way?” Qrow offered an exaggerated wink.

“Maybe we _should_ leave him,” Oz muttered, and he and Tai laughed when Qrow’s shouts turned more desperate.

“You see,” Oz explained, showing his phone to Tai as they walked down the hall, obvious to Qrow’s shouts (he had one hand and one leg untied, Tai leaving the others as punishment), “despite the age of the house, I have quite the state of the art system built in. I can control electronics, Bluetooth devices, security equipment – all of it from the palm of my hand.” He clicked a button and the lights in the hall turned on, dim bulbs growing gradually brighter.

“Light too,” Tai said, with a sigh, remembering the way they dimmed and brightened in the living room. 

“Lights too,” Oz said.

Tai glanced at the painting of old Ozma Pine at the landing of the stairs. Now in the bright light, Ozma didn’t seem dark or brooding, his smile no longer malicious. Now he simply looked friendly, wrinkles at the corners of his eyes suggesting he smiled often.

The rest of the house wasn’t so dark and mysterious either, Oz clicking on lights as Tai followed him toward the kitchen. The living room was large, airy, with shiny curios on the bookshelves. 

_A perfect place to read._

Even the kitchen was cheerful, the sage green warm and soothing without the shadows of early evening. Oz offered Tai a chair at the worn wooden table and a cup of chamomile tea and leftover Chinese food (Tai insisting that this was a great way to make things up to him). Oz poured himself a cup of coffee that Tai surmised wasn’t actually haunted either.

“So,” Tai said, listening to the thump of Qrow’s hurried steps above them as he dug a fork into cold chow mein. “I guess the dishwasher…”

“Remote controlled,” Oz said, with a soft smile. “When I inherited the house, most of the appliances were woefully outdated. I thought a touch of modernity would benefit me.”

“So you – ” Tai began, Qrow interrupting by appearing and glowering at him in the doorway.

“Asshole,” he muttered.

“You deserved it.”

“I’m afraid I must agree,” Oz said, amused.

“Et tu, Oz?” Qrow said, narrowing his eyes at the cartons in front of Tai. “What is that? Chinese? Budge over, I want some.”

“Oz – sorry, that’s what Qrow’s been calling you – you said you inherited the house?” Tai asked, briefly engaged in a tug-of-war for the broccoli beef. “I’m confused – the deed says it’s still in Ozma Pine’s name.”

“Ah.” Oz sat down with his coffee, bruised face pensive. “Ozma Pine was my grandfather. From what I heard over the cameras, your research is mostly correct. He died about twenty years ago, at a very old age.”

“So how is the house still in his name?”

“It’s not,” Oz said gently. “I’m Ozma Pine. The third.”

Tai stared, mouth dropping slightly open. “Of course,” he muttered, internally kicking himself. “That’s so obvious…”

“Not always,” Oz said. “My grandfather went by Ozma. My father, Ozma Jr., went by Oscar, his middle name. I’ve always used the name Ozpin.”

“Ozpin,” Tai repeated. “Oh! The books!”

“I’m a writer, yes. And something of a nocturnal recluse.”

Tai thought about this, not even protesting when Qrow swiped the fried rice from under his chin. “So the reports of disembodied heads, lights turning off and on…”

“I’m not in the habit of knowing my neighbors,” Ozpin said. “And I’ve been alone for a number of years, so I’m not wholly surprised to hear these rumors. But you could have asked my take out delivery drivers, and they would have assured you I’m quite alive.” He offered a kind smile. “Anything else I haven’t explained?”

“No,” Tai said slowly. “I guess that’s it. I’m…I’m really sorry. I had no idea we were breaking into a stranger’s house. We’re lucky you didn’t just call the cops.”

“You can thank my _je ne sais quoi_ for that,” Qrow grinned, shoveling an impressive spoon full of fried rice into his mouth.

Ozpin coughed lightly, taking an elegant sip of coffee. “Well. I, ah, am something of a fan of your show. I recognized you two and opted to spare you the trouble.”

Tai frowned. “Qrow can’t take all the credit for that.”

“That’s not what you were sayin’ while you tied me down to bed,” Qrow wriggled his brow.

Tai paused with a forkful of kung pao halfway to his mouth, glancing between the two of them, realizing for the first time that Ozpin had to have been the one to restrain Qrow. As if to confirm, Ozpin looked away and turned a delicate shade of pink. Tai narrowed his eyes at Qrow’s smug face.

_May you choke on your fried rice, you suave bastard._

“Anyway,” Ozpin murmured, “all’s well that ends well. Qrow has had his fun, and Taiyang has had his revenge against us both.” He touched his black eyes gingerly, with a wry smile on his lips. “I’m sorry that your episode did not turn out the way you wished.”

“Eh,” Tai said, with a shrug. “They never do, but people keep watching.”

“You’re both welcome to stay as long as you need. I’m sure you must be exhausted.”

“Dead tired,” Qrow replied grinning at his own joke. “Tai, we should crash here for the night.”

Tai shot him an incredulous look, mouth full of spicy chicken. He swallowed with effort, glancing at Ozpin’s raised eyebrows.

“Qrow, we can’t just impose on a strange – ow!” Tai flinched at the kick to his shins, Qrow offering a glare as a reply.

“It’s not an imposition at all,” Ozpin broke in kindly. “I don’t often…ever have guests, and it’s a large house. I insist you stay and rest before you make the drive back.”

Tai mused over this, ignoring the half-plea, half-demand on Qrow’s face. But then he caught the glance Qrow shot toward Ozpin, and the glance Ozpin returned with a faint blush –

 _You have GOT to be kidding me,_ Tai grumbled inwardly. Of all the not-haunted houses to break into, they found the one owned by a guy who might somehow actually into Qrow.

_Has he had bad taste his whole life, or has he gone senile?_

“That sounds great. Tai, I’ll be right back. I’m going to go secure the stuff in the truck,” his friend replied, disappearing before Tai could protest further.

Even Ozpin raised an eyebrow, apparently as mystified by Qrow’s abrupt exit as Tai. 

“You get used to it,” Tai said, and Ozpin turned back. “It’s just how he is. I mean, you watched him all night on camera.”

“He’s certainly…a character,” Ozpin said politely. “Let me show you the spare bedrooms.”

Tai sighed, feeling the change of subject and letting it happen. He followed Ozpin back upstairs, to a small, comfortable guest bedroom with a queen bed.

“I hope this will do,” Ozpin said, digging through the closet for a spare blanket. “The bathroom is just next door, but I’ll leave the door open so you can find it. I’m a bit nocturnal, so I’ll be up if you need me…”

His voice trailed, the tone suggesting that it would be better if Tai did not need him, and Tai tried not to think about what that meant. 

“And Qrow?” Tai asked.

“What about him?” Ozpin asked.

“I mean, are we sharing, or – ”

“Oh,” Ozpin said, sounding relieved. “Ah. No, I have enough space for you both to be comfortable. Please sleep well.”

Tai watched him flit out the door, steps moving back downstairs. He placed his camera bag on the floor, sitting on the side of the bed with a sigh.

The way the two of them were acting certainly seemed suspicious, and he’d bet money on another prank if he didn’t believe Qrow to be exactly the kind of guy who would break into someone’s house and then try to seduce him. Worse yet – Tai was pretty sure Ozpin was willing to be seduced.

 _Of all the luck,_ he thought, and resigned himself to sleeping with his headphones in to avoid hearing the dead or the living.

*

Ozpin tidied up the kitchen, tossing empty takeout cartons in the trash and pouring himself a second cup of coffee. He didn’t need the caffeine after everything that had happened this evening, but the warmth of the liquid soothed his nerves, which needed soothing the longer Qrow was outside.

What he was doing outside, Ozpin couldn’t guess, but he was certain Qrow had not given up on resuming where they had left off in the study. The thought was delight and horror and too many other things simultaneously, and so Ozpin drank his coffee and tapped his foot against his chair nervously.

“Miss me?” Qrow swooped in from behind, kissing Ozpin’s cheek. “Tai all settled in?” Qrow asked, scanning the scene.

Ozpin’s stomach flipped, the rest of his body remaining in place only by sheer willpower. “Ah,” he said. “Yes, he’s in one of the guest rooms. Did you get your things secured?” 

Qrow made a dramatic motion with his arm, whipping out a pack of condoms and shaking them, wolfish grin in place. “Things‘ll be secured alright. Now about those neck ties…”

Ozpin’s eyes fell on the roll, widening at the frank proposition in front of his warming face, snatching them from Qrow’s hands and shoving them into his lap, away from prying eyes. “Oh, good lord!” he murmured, immediately glancing about the kitchen to ensure they were alone. “You…you’re serious about this?”

_Of course he is. I’m not sure why I doubted him._

“As serious as the erections we were both denying earlier,” Qrow said, leaning down and nuzzling Ozpin’s neck, nipping at his ear. “We can pick up where we left off…only, you know, less clothes.”

“A-ah,” Ozpin said, breath hitching at the heat in his ear. “Well, I – I don’t know. I’m really not the type to – to – ” Qrow sucked on Ozpin’s lobe and he felt his spine melt, eyes closing to savor the tingly sensation it sent throughout him. “That is – if this sort of thing happens with people you meet on your show…”

“Not yet,” Qrow whispered into Ozpin’s ear.

“Oh,” Ozpin said, shivering at the strength of what that meant.

_He’s chosen me specifically._

“Well…perhaps…”

So much protesting when it was obvious he wanted differently. Perhaps he wasn’t the sort of man who invited beautiful young men into his bed after knowing them for only a few hours, but the touch of Qrow’s fingers in his hair, his lips on Ozpin’s ear, sent an impossible heat to his blood. Qrow cupped Ozpin’s chin and their lips met, and the little nerves from before evaporated. He clenched at Qrow’s shirt, pressing his mouth back desperately.

“It…it’s been some time,” he whispered, when they parted for breath. “And I’m a bit nervous. But…if you let me tie you again…” Qrow kissed him again and he let it happen, the thought fragmented briefly. “If you let me take things slowly…”

Qrow chuckled, low and impossibly sexy. “As slow as you need to,” he murmured, taking Ozpin’s hand, pulling it upward until Ozpin made contact, his palm against Qrow’s erection. “Until we’re both satisfied.”

Ozpin’s eyes widened, lips parting at the touch (good _lord_ Qrow felt good, Ozpin having forgotten what another flesh and blood body felt like), letting Qrow pull him from the chair and toward the living room, and toward the staircase within.

If this was a dream, if Ozpin had somehow found himself living in the awful, wonderful fantasy he had written, he was determined not to wake himself.

_Until we’re both satisfied._

*

Tai checked the equipment in the trunk, ticking off the list of cameras, microphones, and other devices. Everything was accounted for as the sun rose over the Pine Manor; in the daylight, of course, the house didn’t appear menacing. It was almost charming, the old architecture, the green shutters over the windows that didn’t look as dark and full of ghosts. He glanced at his watch and then back at the house, wondering when Qrow would grace him with his presence. Tai had knocked quietly on the guest bedroom where Qrow has stayed, received no answer, and wasn’t at all surprised to find the room empty, the bed still perfectly made.

Tai had simply sighed, and resigned himself to the fact that Qrow was going to be irritatingly smug about this for weeks to come.

Now, in the sober sunlight, Tai squinted at a face in the upstairs window – dark hair visible for only a moment before disappearing. 

“Hurry up, Qrow,” Tai muttered under his breath. Even when the house didn’t _look_ haunted, Tai couldn’t shake the constant sense of being watched by it.

On cue, the front door opened, Tai blinking at the sight of Qrow and Ozpin on the porch, carrying the other camera bag. He glanced back up at the top window where he had just seen Qrow’s face – or merely imagined it.

_This place is getting to me._

“Good morning,” Tai said sarcastically, when Qrow sauntered to the car, face already stupidly smug.

“It sure is mornin’,” Qrow said, with a wide yawn.

Tai frowned. It was a bait statement and he refused to dignify it with a response, especially when Tai knew Qrow merely wanted to gloat. 

“Good thing Oz is nocturnal,” Qrow continued, placing his camera bag in the truck.

“Yeah, ‘cause he’s normally tired this time of day,” Tai said. “Good time for us to get out of his hair.”

“He’s especially tired after – ”

Tai shot him a glare to kill.

As usual, it had no effect.

“ – stayin’ up to entertain us all night,” Qrow continued.

Tai rolled his eyes.

“Me,” Qrow added. “Entertain _me.”_

“I get it, Qrow!” Tai snapped, closing the truck with more force than necessary. “You slept with him. I get it!”

And Tai felt his stomach drop when he heard a soft cough behind him.

_Fantastic._

Tai turned to see Qrow’s smug grin and Ozpin’s embarrassed blush. His black eye looked horrific in the light, mottled blue and violet, Tai wincing at the memory of how hard he had thrown that book.

“Sorry,” Tai said, for a number of reasons.

“No, no,” Ozpin said, all courtesy. “I – well.” He cleared his throat, apparently unable to find something polite to say.

_Not that he’s denying it either._

“I don’t suppose I can convince to you stay for a cup of coffee,” Ozpin offered.

“I appreciate it,” Tai said. “But you must be tired – ”

Qrow opened his mouth and Tai shot him a glare to melt ice.

“And we’ve intruded on you long enough,” Tai finished. 

“Well, it was as much my pleasure as yours,” Ozpin said politely.

“Especially mine,” Qrow said.

“Qrow!” Ozpin and Tai rebuked him in unison.

“What?” Qrow said. “I put out so I’m allowed to make jokes.”

Ozpin’s blush darkened, eyes dropping to the ground.

“Besides,” Qrow said, “I wanna invite Oz on some haunts in the future. See if he can’t shake things up a bit. And I wanna see how jealous the comments get when they see me with a hot new boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” Tai repeated.

Even Ozpin looked surprised, eyes wide behind his glasses, but the blush warmed into something beyond embarrassment, lips tugging upward.

“I would like that very much,” Ozpin said, “if Taiyang doesn’t think I would be an imposition.”

Tai looked at the hopeful expression on Qrow’s face and sighed. “Not at all. A fresh face could make things interesting. Just…no more pranks.”

“Oh no,” Ozpin said quickly, gently touching his bruised face. “I’ve learned my lesson.”

Tai chuckled. “I’m still sorry about that. If you have medical bills from it, I can pay – ”

“Oh, not at all. A bit of time and it will clear up – ”

“If you’re sure – ”

This polite back-and-forth went on until Qrow grew impatient and ushered Tai into the car, loitering himself so that he could squeeze out a moment with Ozpin without being overheard. Tai rolled his eyes but obliged, closing the door and buckling his seat belt. He glanced at the rearview mirror in time to see Qrow abruptly lean in for a kiss, Ozpin surprised for a second before his eyes closed to accept it. 

_So Qrow likes this one enough to keep him around._

No ghosts in Pine Manor, but still something to make the episode worth it.

Qrow climbed in, face tired but triumphant. “This was the best episode we’ve ever filmed,” he said, leaning back and closing his eyes.

Tai chuckled, turning the key in the ignition. “I think I aged twenty years last night,” he said. “And I’d give you a hell of a lecture about making me almost shit myself, but I guess I’m happy for you.”

“Yeah?” Qrow opened one eye, watching Ozpin’s figure disappear in the mirror.

“Yeah.”

Qrow’s grin faded into a content smile, eyes closing again. “Thanks, Tai.”

*

Ozpin closed the front door with a long sigh, leaning against it as he exhaled.

“You seem inordinately pleased.”

Ozpin smiled to himself, pushing off the door and meandering into the living room, humming all the while. “Perhaps I am,” he said.

The figure on the sofa tilted his head. “I suppose you’ll have to forgive my review of your latest story,” he said, voice amused, “for it seems to have happened precisely as you wrote it – even the tawdry bits.”

“I will not dignify that with a response,” Ozpin said lightly, refusing the taunt, making his way upstairs. “I do hope you were extremely absent from the bedroom last night.”

“Oh, I was,” the figure said, materializing at the landing, beside the painting that so closely resembled him. “There are things I do not need to witness my grandson doing, and Qrow Branwen is one of them.”

Ozpin rolled his eyes, but the smile came regardless, feeling the presence drift behind him.

“I considered saying hello to the other young man, but I took mercy on him after your prank.” Ozma floated beside Ozpin, raising an eyebrow at the mark on his face. “You deserved it.”

“I can’t even feel it,” Ozpin sang, entering the bedroom. The air was thick still, as though a night of hot breath had filled it to capacity. The sheets were tangled beyond help but Ozpin collapsed on them regardless, happy to breathe in the smell Qrow had left there.

“I’m sure you’ll feel _something_ tomorrow.”

“Ozma!” Ozpin shot the figure a disapproving look.

“It’s no worse than what you write. But I will reserve my judgment.”

“Please.” Ozpin stared at the ceiling, smile not entirely gone. “He called me his boyfriend.”

“After last night, I would hope you earned the title.”

Ozpin chuckled, unable to find embarrassment among worn limbs and the pleased fog in his brain. “I think I can forgo that story and get back to my novel tonight. My motivations are quite changed.”

“It’s good to see you so _inspired_ again.”

“Don’t tease me,” Ozpin said. “He invited me on his show. To visit haunted locations.”

“Seems unnecessary, given the haunting here.”

Ozpin laughed quietly. “Perhaps then I’m something of an expert. Do you think I shouldn’t go?”

_“Ozma Pine.”_

“Ah,” Ozpin said softly. “The full name lecture.”

Ozma was beside him now, his face stern.

“You absolutely should go.”

“I would feel guilty about leaving you here alone.”

“My dear boy,” Ozma said, hand reaching out, the touch like a cold breeze on Ozpin’s face. “You’re still alive. There is no need for you to bury yourself here before your time. Go. Go see your young man. Follow your heart.”

Ozpin listened, clasping his hands on his stomach.

“And perhaps let him remind you that your body is alive as well.”

_“Ozma!”_

The ghost vanished with an echoing laugh. “I am not wrong,” he sang.

Ozpin hummed, the little smile returning when he thought about Qrow.

“No,” he murmured contentedly. “I don’t think you are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another AU complete! We hope to post one more chapter to this fic for those interested in the omitted smut scene, but it is not integral to the plot and therefore easily skipped if undesired. Please note that the rating will change to E when the fifth chapter is added. We will add the necessary tags and beginning of chapter disclaimer.
> 
> Thank you all for reading! 💚
> 
> P.S. We now have a bonus chapter of plotless, shameless smut to fill in the missing night events between Qrow and Ozpin. Proceed if you dare, but you have been warned. ;)


	5. Sleeping with Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The "missing scene" in which Qrow neglects his guest room for Ozpin's bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those who asked, we have written the "missing scene" between Ozpin and Qrow, and it's 5k of completely shameless, plotless smut. This is purely for smutty reasons and has no direct impact on the plot and story as written. To those who wish to avoid, you have been warned.

Qrow led the way upstairs, his fingers firm around one of Ozpin’s hands (Ozpin’s other still tightly clutching an unreasonable number of condoms, praying that Taiyang would not happen to open his door as they hurried by in the darkness). Ozpin’s heart beat more loudly than the creaks of the old house under their feet, muffling the groan of the bedroom door. Ozpin let Qrow latch the door behind him, too nervous to do more than that, eyes darting back to where the ties still resided in each corner of his bed, the sheets mussed after Qrow’s escape.

_I asked to tie him up._

The thought was thrill and horror combined.

_Is that terribly kinky of me?_

Likely, but Ozpin had said it and Qrow didn’t seem to take offense – rather, he seemed pleased with the idea.

“So,” Qrow said, a grin on his face, eyes already roving over Ozpin’s body.

“So,” Ozpin repeated faintly.

Qrow’s grin grew, taking his hands and pulling him toward the bed with backward steps. “You can say if you’ve changed your mind,” he said, “but I have a feelin’ that’s not why you look nervous.”

“No,” Ozpin said, the word a breathless syllable. “I haven’t.”

“Yeah?” Qrow said, brushing a lock of hair from Ozpin’s bruised eye. “Got somethin’ to prove?”

“Yes.” Yes, that was it _exactly._ Ozpin ran his thumbs over Qrow’s palms, marveling at the warmth there, how hot everything felt between them in the cold house.

Qrow laughed softly. “Maybe you’ve been writin’ about ghosts too long that you’re startin’ to live with them, Oz.”

“You have no idea.” 

“Then I hope they don’t watch what we’re about to do,” Qrow said, lifting his chin toward Ozpin’s face.

“I sincerely hope they do not,” Ozpin said, eyes closing as Qrow kissed him, soft and warm and so very welcome, familiar and strange simultaneously. Qrow released his hands and Ozpin let them fall, running along Qrow’s sides, pausing at his hips. This was nice, the gentle press of lips, the easy exploration, the pull of Ozpin’s torso against Qrow, the feeling of flesh against flesh.

_Well – almost._

Without thinking, Ozpin’s fingers trailing upward, beneath Qrow’s shirt, running tips along the heat of living skin, squeezing just enough to test the malleability of it. Qrow hummed into Ozpin’s mouth, tongue prodding until Ozpin parted his lips. Ozpin felt something shift, whether in the air or in his blood, Qrow’s tongue almost lazily seductive, Ozpin’s hands tightening on Qrow’s hips.

Qrow broke the kiss to smile. “There he is,” he murmured.

The hand below Ozpin’s belt made him yelp in surprise, shuddering when Qrow didn’t withdraw, tracing Ozpin’s erection with his palm and then his fingers.

“Must be some crush you have on me,” Qrow whispered, as Ozpin’s head sank down to Qrow’s shoulder, his breath hot and Qrow’s skin hot and everything so hot –

Qrow pulled away, lifting Ozpin’s head by the chin to kiss him again. “Still want to tie me up?”

_“Yes.”_

The desire to see Qrow back on the bed, arms restrained and chest bare, was insufferable, Ozpin releasing Qrow’s hips to watch him strip his shirt for the third time that night. His hands clenched in anticipation of touching – palms and fingertips trailing every part of him, until Ozpin memorized every divot of his skin, felt every contraction of his muscles.

“You look like you wanna eat me,” Qrow said, grinning as he bounced onto the bed.

“I do hope that’s an invitation,” Ozpin said, the fever in his blood too hot to summon embarrassment. He fished a tie from the floor and began to tie one of Qrow’s arms to the bedpost.

“Damn,” Qrow breathed. “I figured from your writing you might be kinky, but I don’t mind you provin’ it.”

“Oh?” Ozpin said, cinching the knot. “Are my books that vulgar?”

“Come on, Oz. That scene in _The Midnight Shadow?_ Hottest sex scene I’ve ever read.”

Ozpin blinked, pausing with the second tie in hand. “Really?”

“Like I said – shame I never knew the guy who wrote it was sexy. Coulda made my solo sessions a _lot_ hotter.”

Ozpin stared, stunned into silence at this praise of both his writing and his appearance. Then he leaned down, pressing his mouth to Qrow’s with more violence than he knew he had within himself, feeling the suppressed whine from Qrow, the restrained wriggle at this assault. He raised his free hand to reach for Ozpin but Ozpin caught it, breaking the kiss to finish tying him to the bed.

“Shit,” Qrow whispered, letting out a long, frustrated breath. “What happened to bein’ nervous?”

“Perhaps you’ve praised me into a new mood,” Ozpin said. He tested the second knot and settled onto the bed, thighs on either side of Qrow’s hips.

“Glad to help,” Qrow said, face smug. “So, you know what you’re doing, or has it been too long?”

“Oh, I’ve written this,” Ozpin said, running his hands up Qrow’s chest. He closed his eyes briefly, letting his hands take in the sensation, the smoothness of toned skin, trim muscles, the catch of Qrow’s breath when fingers roamed over nipples. He opened his eyes, reading the conflict of emotions on Qrow’s face: curiosity, muted by the tease of Ozpin’s exploring touches. “I’ve been writing a story with absolutely no merit, a smut rag for no other reason beyond fantasies of this exact situation.”

“Yeah?” Qrow said, his breathing already heavy. “New book?”

“In a manner of speaking, it’s a distraction from my new book,” Ozpin said, slipping from the bed. He paused at the side table, absently moving a few candles about until he found the one he was looking for. The strike of a match and it was lit. Another flick of his wrist, and the room fell into near darkness. “I’ve been blocked for some time, and I’ve…been using you to distract me.” He inhaled the woodsy scent from the candle, letting out the breath slowly, opening eyes to give Qrow a small, pleased smile. 

“In the most pleasurable way possible.”

“You’re writing me into a story? For real?”

Ozpin hummed in the affirmative, sliding back onto the bed, hands already dragging back down Qrow’s torso, tracing the pink scratches left earlier. He was delectable enough in the light, but with every inch of him shadowed and highlighted in the candlelight, Qrow was transformed into some manner of Greek god, impossible not to touch. “It’s trash of the worst kind. Irredeemable smut. Too explicit for anything I’d publish.”

“You’ve fantasized about me so hard it’s not publishable?” Qrow asked, incredulous. Ozpin’s hands paused at Qrow’s pants button and Ozpin could hear him swallow. “Christ, that’s hot.”

Ozpin chuckled softly.

“So you gonna let me recreate it with you?”

_“Absolutely.”_ Ozpin nodded at the candle burning beside them. “Sandalwood and jasmine. It’s what I light when I need inspiration for…my more adventurous scenes.”

The grin returned. “You’re like some kind of kinky wizard, huh?”

“You’ll find that writers do a good deal of strange things for inspiration.”

“Bet I’m better inspiration than the candle.”

“Ah,” Ozpin said softly, fingers still playing over Qrow’s glowing skin, “if only you knew.”

“You gonna gag me again?”

“Oh, no,” Ozpin said. “I want to hear you.” He dragged a hand lower and Qrow bucked instantly, smothering a groan with pressed lips. What a _delicious_ sound, better than what Ozpin had imagined, urgency in the hard knit of Qrow’s brows and clench-closed eyes.

“Christ,” Qrow said again, head falling back on the pillow.

Now Ozpin undid Qrow’s pants, fingers trailing the skin beneath the waistband, eager not to miss a single inch of him. He _had_ turned away when Qrow had stripped on the security monitors earlier, but now he had time for a proper reveal, to touch what would be so spectacularly displayed. He peeled the pants from Qrow’s hips, eyes firmly on the prize within; Qrow was hard, extremely so, already with a tempting leak at the reddened tip.

Too tempting; Ozpin leaned over and ran his tongue from the base to the tip, Qrow twitching below him.

_“Fuck,”_ he moaned, the ties holding as he pulled against them, arm muscles flexing. “And I thought you were gonna be shy.”

Ozpin chuckled, eyes dropping to free Qrow’s legs completely, tossing the pants aside. This was surely one of his many daydreams, his beautiful young crush tied to his bed, completely bare, waiting and _very_ ready for him.

“So this the part where you just stare at me?” Qrow teased. “Or are you gonna do somethin’ about my little problem here?”

“I wouldn’t say it’s a _little_ problem,” Ozpin murmured, settling between Qrow’s legs. Qrow’s eyes widened at that implication, his hips giving an almost imperceptible wiggle of anticipation.

_Lord, he’s cute,_ Ozpin thought, his groan of personal impatience internal. A brace of his elbows as he leaned down, nearer to the scent of desperate hormones –

Qrow groaned loudly when Ozpin’s mouth descended over him, head falling backward. He tasted exactly like he smelled, salt of skin and precum mixed with something wholly primal, the heat and pulse of his cock so very _alive,_ Ozpin closing his eyes as he dragged his tongue back up. He paused, one hand on Qrow’s pelvis and the other around his cock, watching the mixture of bliss and impatience on Qrow’s face. 

“Hmm,” Ozpin said quietly, even as his blood raced in his ears. “You taste divine. Like salted honeysuckle.”

Qrow let out a harsh laugh. “You always recite poetry when you blow a guy?”

“Would you prefer me not to?”

“Oz, you can write as many poems about my dick as you want – as long you don’t stop.”

Ozpin hummed again, but now he draped his lips around Qrow once more, a slow bob up and down, listening to how Qrow’s breath altered, how the ties strained against the bedposts. He paused at the tip, a generous amount of tongue there, if for no other reason than to taste him again, and Qrow’s legs wrapped around Ozpin’s torso, to trap him in place.

_As if I wanted to be anywhere else,_ Ozpin thought, all amusement. 

Another bob of his head, his hand helping to pump, Qrow’s breathing ragged now, hands clenched in helpless fists. The sight was almost as delicious as the taste, to know that Ozpin had the power to unravel a man as smug as Qrow Branwen into this, silver tongue silenced except to let slip those lovely groans of agonized pleasure. Qrow bucked suddenly and Ozpin choked, withdrawing enough to catch his breath.

“Do I need to restrain your legs as well?” he asked, wiping his mouth politely with fingertips.

Qrow clenched his jaw so harshly Ozpin could hear it. “Depends,” he said, his tone brash even when his expression spoke the truth, “on whether you’re gonna swallow.”

Ozpin met Qrow’s eyes, candlelight dancing in them. “When you taste this good, how could I not?”

Qrow groaned even before Ozpin’s mouth returned to its duty. “Jesus, _fuck,”_ he whined lowly.

Ozpin offered a few more bobs, increasing the speed at the insistence of Qrow’s hips. “Strange,” he murmured, his breath hot on Qrow’s cock. “I didn’t think dirty talk would faze you.”

“Yeah, me either,” Qrow said, eyes fluttering closed when Ozpin dragged his tongue up his length, lips following to swallow him whole. “But somehow when _you_ say it…it feels like some kind of taboo.”

Ozpin chuckled, the sound vibrating against Qrow’s cock. Fair enough, Ozpin was surprised by his own ability to speak plainly now, but the sight of Qrow so bare, so eager, impatient putty in his hands (and mouth), and it was too much to take; Ozpin had to do everything in his power to drag forth those curses, wring out those sweet moans, wrack his body with breathless pleasure until he begged for relief.

“Oz – ”

_So soon?_ Ozpin’s eyes flickered upward to the desperate expression on Qrow’s face, the audible groan of the ruined ties that bound him. Ozpin pulled his mouth off his cock and cinched his fingers tightly around the base.

Qrow’s eyes shot open instantly, wriggling against the restraints. “Oz, wait - _Oz – ”_

“I’m afraid I can’t allow things to end that quickly,” Ozpin said, breathless.

Qrow broke into a stream of incoherent curses. “You said – you said you’d – ”

“Swallow you whole,” Ozpin murmured, sitting up and wiping his mouth again. “And I’m a man of my word. But you neglected to demand _when.”_

“Son of a bitch,” Qrow hissed.

Ozpin ignored the swears, leaning over to the table, where the comical number of condoms lay.

Qrow fell silent when Ozpin picked them up, reason catching up to frustration. Ozpin allowed himself a smug smile, pulling at the buttons of his shirt, watching how intent Qrow’s stare became. A new little thrill went through him under Qrow’s eyes, and he shifted toward the candlelight to let exposed skin become more so, tossing the shirt off the side of the bed.

Qrow inhaled sharply.

“You’ll get your turn,” Ozpin said, already anticipating how aggressive Qrow might become after this little act of dominance.

“You bet your ass,” Qrow growled, hips twitching at the sight of flesh. “I’m gonna make you pay for that, Oz.”

“Oh?” Ozpin asked, a pleased flutter in his gut. “How so?”

Qrow watched Ozpin slip from the bed and slip pants from his waist, stare unblinking. “I’m gonna fuck you into next week,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I’ll make you _beg_ for it. I’ll make you moan so loud you wake up Tai and whatever ghosts you have here.”

_Ah, what a thrill,_ Ozpin thought contentedly, sighing as he stepped free of his pants. He could imagine it, Qrow’s hands hard on his skin, pinching with too much force, rough with young and reckless determination, finding that tenuous space between bliss and agony –

He paused to catch his breath. First things first – he had to make Qrow want it. Easy enough, with how hard Qrow’s stare was, roving brusquely over Ozpin’s body, stopping too often at the band of Ozpin’s fitted boxers. 

“Not leavin’ much to the imagination with those, eh?” he said, with a low laugh.

“Hmm. Enough that you’re annoyed I’m still wearing them.”

“Yeah, ‘cuz you edged me and now you’re leavin’ me dry,” Qrow barked.

“I have to be sure you won’t finish too quickly.”

“You have a real high opinion of how good your ass feels.”

Ozpin laughed, finally slipping thumbs beneath his boxers and pulling them down. Qrow positively _craned_ his neck to see, sharp retorts and clever comebacks dead in his throat as he took all of Ozpin in, his expression too eager as Ozpin climbed back onto the bed, retrieving the condoms.

“I take it back,” Qrow said, closing his eyes as Ozpin tore into the wrapper. “You’re not a wizard. You’re some kinda siren. Killin’ guys with blue balls.”

“Oh, hush,” Ozpin said, taking Qrow’s cock in hand, slowly rolling the condom down. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“You fuckin’ better.”

A long, slow pump with Ozpin’s hand (Qrow groaned a series of rude curses toward him), a healthy coat of lubricant, and then Ozpin inched over Qrow’s hips. Qrow’s eyes shot open, as if disbelieving Ozpin had any real intention of fucking him tonight (as if the hard, almost painful tic of Ozpin’s cock didn’t imply precisely the opposite). 

“Try to give me a few minutes, if you please,” Ozpin said, breathless as Qrow’s tip nudged his entrance (his entire body trembling briefly at that, his blood racing so fast that his heart felt like one continuous vibration).

“Fuck you, I’ll give you as much as you can ta - _fuck!”_

Ozpin shuddered violently at the unexpected thrust from Qrow’s hips, the two of them freezing in place, Qrow fully sheathed within Ozpin, soft moans echoing under their breath. The pleasure was unreal, electricity tingling in his limbs and fingertips, the roughness of the penetration felt in his throat, as if Qrow had displaced his very heart.

“Oh, lord,” Ozpin whispered, steadying himself with a palm on Qrow’s chest, feeling the heave of his lungs, the hammering of his heart.

“Christ,” Qrow said. “You okay?”

“Perfect,” he breathed. “Oh…Qrow…”

Qrow shook his head. “Oz, you’re killin’ me.”

“My apologies. You feel…perfect.”

“And you haven’t even moved yet,” Qrow said, some of his complacency returning, even as he pulled at the ties, eyes dropping to Ozpin’s untouched cock. 

So Ozpin moved, bracing himself on Qrow’s chest with both hands now, lifting his hips slowly and letting himself fall back onto Qrow’s cock, a single thrust dragging a soft, perfectly desperate moan from his lips, legs already shaking with pleasure, eyes closed under the heaviness of bliss.

“Jesus, you’re a fuckin’ slut,” Qrow said, in an awed tone of voice that implied this was a compliment. He pulled at the ties again, harder this time, the bedposts trembling from the effort. It was clear he wanted to touch what he hadn’t been able to yet, but Ozpin knew there was a limited amount of time before he would come, and come possibly without Qrow even touching his cock. Ozpin settled back down, repositioning his legs to allow a more fluid cant of his hips.

And how Qrow _moaned_ at that, head falling backward, throat exposed to show how hard he swallowed, the rise and fall of his Adam’s apple. Ozpin felt the need to touch, always touching, more and more, hands roving from Qrow’s chest to his neck, leaning forward until he could pull Qrow’s head up, lips connecting.

_This_ was desperation, haggard breaths exchanged, lips sealed until a disquiet moan broke them apart, Ozpin canting his hips against Qrow faster now (in this position, he could rut against Qrow’s perfect abdomen, shuddering with each push).

“Oz,” Qrow rasped, as Ozpin’s hips picked up speed yet again (he was so close now, even with just the graze of Qrow against his cock). “Oz, I’m gonna – ”

“Not yet,” Ozpin begged, forgetting in his urgency to make it a command. “Please, I’m – ”

He heard a sharp tear of fabric and then Qrow was partially free, his hand grasping Ozpin’s shoulder and pushing him up, away from the delicious friction of Qrow’s body –

“Qrow, wait, I – ” Ozpin shivered again, this time more violently, as Qrow’s hand wrapped around his cock. Sparks shot up Ozpin’s spine and his pace faltered, the moan escaping like a leak under pressure, fingers digging into Qrow’s chest, his back bowed under the frantic strokes Qrow offered.

_Bliss, inside and out._

“Qrow, I – I - _Qrow – ”_ Ozpin was incoherent now, shaking rather than canting his hips, cowering under the pressure of his gut, the sheer fire of Qrow’s insistent touches, the tightening of his fingers around Ozpin –

Qrow thrust up and Ozpin cried out, collapsing onto his chest, the heat and pressure unbearable, until it flooded out of him, shaking and shivering like a man electrocuted, pleasure drowning him, back arching. Just as quickly it turned to water, leaving him atop Qrow, sweat and all else crushed hotly between them.

For a long moment, Qrow said nothing, letting Ozpin melt against him, panting as he struggled to catch his breath and remember which limbs were his (everything tingled, everything felt limp with the flood of too much pleasure to handle). He wiped the sweat from his brow and met Qrow’s dark stare, opening his mouth to say –

Qrow thrust up and Ozpin yelped loudly, in both surprise and oversensitivity, the movement ricocheting over frayed nerves.

“You’re not done,” he growled.

Ozpin laughed breathlessly. “Forgive me,” he said, and lifted himself from Qrow’s cock with weak legs, hands still trembling as he climbed back onto the bed. A flick and slick sound and Qrow was free of the condom again, Ozpin taking a deep breath before swallowing Qrow anew. This time, however, Qrow seized Ozpin’s hair with his free hand, fingers digging into the roots harshly, pushing him down further, until he choked on Qrow’s cock.

_Harder, harder -_

Ozpin hollowed his cheeks and Qrow’s grip loosened with a soft groan, his hips wild now, Ozpin using both hands to pump him beneath what his mouth could reach, Qrow beginning to pant and heave, his loose hand flailing against the bed before he remembered to reach for Ozpin. Ozpin caught his hand in his, Qrow’s fingers tightening instantly, nails leaving marks as Ozpin drove him closer to ecstasy with his mouth –

_“Oz!”_

How sweet his name on desperate lips, Ozpin flinching lightly at the strength of Qrow’s orgasm, the heat at the back of his throat. One, two, three more pumps, each slower than the last, until Qrow’s seized muscles relaxed into a puddle, his hand dropping Ozpin’s with the release of all his strength. Ozpin removed his mouth from his cock with a soft _pop,_ running his tongue along soiled lips (Qrow tasted just as good as before, and Ozpin closed his eyes to savor it, and the moment).

Qrow watched him from beneath heavy eyelids, his expression one of perfect satisfaction.

“You are some kinda freak,” he murmured, his tone impressed.

Ozpin laughed softly, collapsing against Qrow’s side, reaching up to free his other arm. “Does that warrant a ‘thank you?’”

“Come on, Oz,” Qrow said, the soft smile not leaving his lips. “From one freak to another, that was something.”

Ozpin hummed, settling in against Qrow’s chest, closing his eyes at the heat of his skin, the quieting beat of his heart. “Then I thank you, sincerely.”

“So did we do the story justice?”

“Ah,” Ozpin said, fingers blindly still exploring Qrow’s body, relishing in the warmth in his bed, beside him. “Well. Yes and no. In the scene, the character based on me does – well, rather everything I did. I commend you on improvising things. I think it brought a certain…urgency to it.”

Qrow chuckled lowly. “So I got it a little wrong?”

“No, no. You see, there is…more than one, ah…”

“Orgasm?” Qrow asked incredulously. Then he laughed. “I won’t complain if you wanna keep going.”

“I told you I couldn’t publish it.”

“You should,” Qrow said, lightly pressing his lips to Ozpin’s mouth.

“Don’t,” Ozpin protested. “I just – I just went down on you – ”

“You think that’ll stop me?” Qrow asked, his breath on Ozpin’s face. “What kind of freak do you think I am?”

“Well, I – ” But Qrow didn’t let him object further, pressing his mouth to his, and Ozpin felt himself melt. Qrow’s kisses were all-compassing, mind-clearing, grounding Ozpin to his body and absolutely nothing more.

“So what happens next?” Qrow whispered, smug smile back in place. “Lemme guess: my character fucks the living daylights outta your character.”

Ozpin swallowed thickly. “Yes, please,” he murmured.

Qrow laughed. “You got it, Oz. Guess that means you don’t mind if I’m a little rough.”

“Dear lord, no – ” Ozpin cut himself off, vaguely embarrassed.

Qrow grinned widely. “Ohh, I get it. Rile me up, put on this power play, make me want to fuck you so hard you can’t walk…” He trailed hands over Ozpin’s body and Ozpin let out a long sigh.

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean,” Ozpin murmured.

Qrow hummed skeptically. “Sure thing, old man. Don’t worry – I can make things as rough as you’d like. All. Fucking. _Night.”_

“Please,” Ozpin whispered, and accepted the hard kiss that Qrow offered as he rolled on top of Ozpin, hands already trailing down, blood already racing anew.

*

Qrow woke slowly, eyes peering and blinking as he tried to remember where he was, or what time it was. He yawned and rubbed his eyes as he sat up, the room dark except for the sliver of daylight peeking out from the curtains.

_Right, the sexy writer’s house._

The smug smile was automatic as he carefully climbed out of bed, padding quietly across the room to pull aside the curtains. He couldn’t have been asleep long, given how long he and Oz had been at it (the sandalwood candle had burned down to the wick, dripping wax all over Ozpin’s side table, but somehow Qrow doubted he cared). Qrow yawned again, watching the first bits of orange light spill over the pine trees on the hill. Maybe it was the romanticism of a long night of freaky sex, but the dawn was beautiful, and Qrow watched for a few more moments before he couldn’t resist the thought of bothering Oz one more time before he had to leave.

Oz was fast asleep still, pale legs tangled in stained sheets, perfect ass exposed, arms slightly outstretched as if reaching for Qrow. He had spent the last few hours sleeping beside Qrow, on top of Qrow, like he had gone too long without the touch of a human being and was trying to make up for it overnight.

_Probably not far from the truth,_ Qrow mused, sitting on the side of the bed and reaching to push a lock of silver hair from Ozpin’s closed eyes. He really was something; Qrow couldn’t think of a night where he had a better time, chemistry and kinks and passion on equal terms, a perfect fit. And Oz himself, hot and knew it just enough to make things interesting, well-spoken (especially when he had Qrow tied up), quiet until Qrow had his way (Oz had moaned and nearly _sobbed_ when Qrow took control, reactive in a way that made Qrow drunk off it). 

Between rounds, while they both lay covered in sweat and other things, they talked about writing, about Oz’s books and the books that influenced them, of Qrow’s work in grad school. Oz was brilliant, those quiet midnight conversations better than half his lectures and workshops, Oz agreeing to read some of Qrow’s work and offer insight. And then Qrow kissed him to show his appreciation, and the conversation died down, muted by the reignition of whatever insane chemistry there was between them.

Older, sophisticated, a damn good writer, kinky in the sack, and crazy about Qrow.

Qrow sighed, shooting another glance at the window.

_I wanna keep him._

Not his usual style, keeping anyone around for long, but something had clicked here, in the moment Qrow had laid tipsy eyes on Ozpin in the dark hallway and realized his fuckup breaking into the house. But how did a guy broach the subject of staying around? Would Oz want Qrow to come back, or better yet, come with them?

Qrow disliked serious conversations about feelings, so that was definitely out. Maybe he’d just _tell_ Oz they were a thing now, and go from there.

Yeah, that was a good plan: casually drop the fact that Oz was his boyfriend, and make Oz protest if he didn’t want it.

Somehow, Qrow thought smugly, he doubted Oz would protest.

Oz stirred softly under Qrow’s touch; Qrow looked down and realized he had slipped his fingers into Ozpin’s hair entirely, offering gentle pets there. He started to withdraw but Oz caught his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm.

Qrow laughed quietly. “Smooth, Oz.”

“Thank you.” Oz blinked at the open curtains, lifting a hand to yawn politely. “Have you been awake long?”

“Nah, just enjoyin’ the view.” Qrow nodded at Ozpin’s ass with a wink.

Oz chuckled quietly. “Rather surprised you didn’t take advantage.”

“While you’re sleeping?” Qrow asked, eyebrows rising. “You into that?”

“I’ve written it,” Oz mused, stretching long, white limbs, all laziness (Qrow found it oddly erotic, watching too intently, dick twitching even after the number of times he’d come in the last few hours). “In _The Breathlessness of Night._ I suppose I’m simply curious.”

“Yeah?” Qrow said, grinning. “I’ll keep it mind for next time.”

Ozpin’s lips parted in surprise. “Next t – ?”

“So you gonna give me a parting gift?” Qrow asked, leaning down to press lips against Oz’s chest.

“Oh, I – ah…” Ozpin’s eyes flickered closed, letting Qrow’s mouth travel to a nipple, sighing contentedly. 

_Fuck, he’s cute._

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough to me?” Oz murmured, amused. But he rolled over to allow Qrow better access, and Qrow dragged his tongue from nipple to belly, feeling the twitch of anticipation under him.

“Hell no,” Qrow said. “You sure you don’t have any other smutty scenes to reenact?”

“I’m afraid we’ve done them all.”

“Then I’ll just have to come up with somethin’ else,” Qrow declared, pulling the sheet from Oz’s waist, eyes locking on the prize exposed. “You ever sixty-nine before?”

Oz shot him a surprised look but Qrow climbed over him anyway, settling legs on the sides of his chest, wriggling his ass. Oz laughed softly, hands already drifting to touch (he _really_ liked to touch, like he was trying to remember every part of Qrow).

“I confess this is new,” he murmured, even as his hands paused on Qrow’s ass, squeezing gently. “Do you prefer to be on top, or…?”

“For now,” Qrow said, running his tongue down Ozpin’s cock and grinning at the shiver that went through him. “’Cuz I’m gonna make your legs shake so hard you can’t stand.”

“Please,” Ozpin whispered, and then those polite lips were around him again, Qrow letting out a long breath of desire.

He was some kind of perfection, if only for Qrow and Qrow alone, and he listened and felt the moans around him, the trembling of bliss under Qrow’s touch, his tongue, his mouth. 

_How can I let him go?_

The simple answer was simple (as Oz’s mouth grew more enthusiastic, Qrow unable to hold back a groan of pleasure) – he couldn’t, and he wouldn’t.


End file.
